The Song of the Mute
by imsally
Summary: Magneto is planning a war. The X-Men want to stop them. Both plans include one girl. Silent. Sad. DANGEROUSE!
1. Mystique

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men (yet) I wish I did. Actually, I only really want Bobby and Pyro. Any teenage girl will understand my reasons for this.  
  
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Opal breathed hard. Where was she going? She didn't know. She was lost. Hopelessly lost. Every house looked the same. Every road. Every streetlight. But he was still there. Still behind her. She could hear his footfalls following her. A tear dripped down her cheek. But it wasn't of sadness. Her tear was of anger. How could she have been so stupid? One little mistake, and the whole town would be after her by nightfall. She had to make that one mistake.   
  
She stopped. He was gone. Where did he go? Opal looked around. Breathing hard, she collapsed on the pavement. She wasn't strong enough to take another step tonight. Let them find her. She didn't care. Wait. Yes she did. She did care. She got up again, ran. Ran. Ran. Then stopped. She looked up. A slight tinge of pink crept over the dark night sky. It would be day soon. She just stood there, frozen, watching the sun come up.   
  
Then, all of a sudden, it was day. She checked her watch. Eight A.M. She had been standing for three hours. Without any thought, she collapsed onto the nearest snow bank. She lay there, shivering in a black Tank top, black zip-hoodie, and likewise colored pants. Her eyes, blacker than the night sky, closed in pain. How could she still be panting for breath? The snow beneath her was melting faster than it usually would. In a matter of seconds she was lying in a puddle on the cement.   
  
Then it clicked. She knew she had to stop doing this. Stop radiating heat. Stop speeding up time. Stop making fire, or ice, or anything that she did. But how could she stop what she didn't know she was doing? Then she started to cry again. She lay there in her puddle sobbing her eyes out.   
  
"Hey, you!" The shout startled her, "What are you crying for?" She sat up, and looked into the eyes of a man much older than her. Maybe in his fifties. She knew he meant well, but she couldn't speak to him. Or to anybody. She swallowed.  
  
"Come on," he told her, "I'll take you home. Where do you live?" She stared up at him in fear, then ran again. Ran right into Him. The very person she had ran from the night before.  
  
"Opal, why do you run?" He asked. "That you for finding my daughter, sir." He told the elderly man. His daughter? Opal was infuriated by his lies. She was not related to him. She tried to slip away, but his grip was to tight on her arm.  
  
"This is the last time, Opal. No more running."  
  
He bundled her into his car, and they drove. For nearly an hour they drove. He glared at her the whole time in the rear-view mirror. Occasionally, he would throw in a short comment, or ask a question. She never answered. Never replied. Her look of unemotion stayed on her face. Though thoughts were running through her mind. Hundreds of them. So many emotions. So many plans. So much anger. Hatred. Fear.  
  
The car stopped outside a large brick building.  
  
"Welcome home," the man said. No. This wasn't home. This was hell. In big, bold, steel letters the words 'Home for Mutants' were printed on the side of the building. The man griped Opal's arm and dragged her inside the building. It looked like a jail. Doors lined every corridor. Each door led to a room containing a bed, a small dresser, and a shelf or two on which to put books or toys, if any were to be had. Every door had a little glass window in it, so the children and teens inside could always be watched.   
  
The man marched her down the hall and into an office at the end of it. He sat Opal in a chair, then went through a door. He appeared a moment later.   
  
"Opal," he said, "come with me." She followed the man through the door. An enormous mahogany desk was in the room. Behind the desk was a huge overstuffed armchair. In the chair was a man. Opal gulped. The man had black hair and brown eyes. He looked strong. And mean.   
  
"Sit," The man behind the desk said. She sat. "Harper, Opal," he said, reading a piece of paper he had taken from a folder just moments before. "Age: fourteen. Hair color and style: Black. Waist length." He looked up at her, regarding her layered black hair, reaching just passed her shoulders. "Hmm. That must be changed," he muttered, then continued reading, "Eyes: Black. Favorite color: Black. Oh, aren't we creative," there was no mistaking his sarcasm, "Height: five feet, four inches. Arrived at institute: six months ago, July, 2004. Birthday: February 28. School Grades: Above average. Powers:' he regarded her again, "Imitation and Empathy." He put the paper down. "Tell me, Opal Harper, What does that mean?" She looked down at her hands, hating the stupid mutant registration law that forced her to be here. 'Don't answer,' she commanded herself mentally, 'don't answer. Don't look up.'  
  
"Well, sir," Opal's original captor stepped forward, "It means that she can imitate other powers and skills. From simple, normal things like cooking, all the way up to..."  
  
"Did I ask you?" The black-haired man demanded, "I believe I asked Opal. Did I not? Yes, I am aware that she does not speak, but, since she is not mute, I will sit here until she does. You, sir, are fired for insubordination." The man mouthed silently. He stammered for a while, but then suddenly slammed his mouth shut and stormed from the room. Opal stared. "Now Opal," the man continued, "I will sit here, and you will sit there until you speak to me. I don't care what you say. Just say it." She looked down at her hands. What would he do to her? He had fired the other man just for speaking out of turn. She looked up to meet his eyes and swallowed. Her mouth was dry. Then the man began to laugh. He laughed harder and harder. Opal stared. Then he began to change. He turned blue. His hair turned red. He turned into a girl. He/she stropped laughing and smiled.  
  
"Oh, that was fun," the person said, " I should disguise myself and fire people more often!" Opal kept staring. "My name is Mystique. I work for a man that can help you. You are, really a prize." The woman -Mystique? - reached over and put a thumb at the back of Opal's neck. With a quick jerk, Opal was out cold.  
  
"To easy. I should have started this years ago."   
  
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Authors note: ok, a little weird, but it's my first X-Men fan fiction, so go easy on it! If you don't get it, it will all come together in the next chapter, don't worry. 


	2. At the Base

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men (yet). I don't own anything. Don't bother to sue me. It wouldn't be worth your time, because I'm dead broke. So you can take your lawyers and shove them up your ____.  
  
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Opal woke up in a warm, soft bed. That's odd, she thought, I can't remember ever sleeping in a comfortable bed. Where am I? She sat up and looked around. Or, at least, she tried to look around. This simple action was made impossible by the fact that a cloth had been tied tightly around her eyes.  
  
"So," a voice behind her said, "You have awoken at last." The voice dripped with malice, even though Opal could tell that he was speaking kindly. "Mystique, if you please." The cloth was taken away. Opal peered around the room. It was made souly of metal. The speaker was sitting not to far away in a metal chair. It was a man with gray hair, dressed in black. He was fairly elderly. The blue woman was standing beside Opal's bed. A teenage boy was standing near what must have been a door. He was flicking a lighter open and shut. Opal lay back down, putting a hand to her head. Why did she feel like she had been hit on the head with a baseball bat?  
  
"Ah, I see you are beginning to feel the pain," the man was speaking again, "Asprin?" He held a small bottle out to her. Without even thinking, Opal took a single white pill, and downed it with the assistance of the glass of water that Mystique had passed her. "I am Magneto," the man continued, "You have not heard of me? Good. You have already met Mystique." The blue woman draped delicate-looking hand over Magneto's shoulder. "The teen in the corner there is Pyro." Pyro nodded at her. She almost smiled. He was kind of hot. Don't fall for the bad guy, she reminded herself, It always gets you into trouble. "You may be wondering why I had you brought here, yes?" Opal was wondering just that, but she wasn't about to let Him know that. "I brought you here because I need your help. Well, actually the help of your kind. Our kind. Mutants. Yes, I am a mutant as well. Let me ask you some thing, Miss Harper. Do you hate humans?" Opal looked down at her hands. Yes, oh, God, yes, she thought. Her answer showed clearly on her face. "Yes? That's good. You see, I have a proposition for you." Opal looked up at him. "I want you to join my army. I am planning a war against humans. Every day my army grows. Soon we will attack. On the Twentyeighth of February, we will surface, and mutants will no longer have to hide. The law will not matter anymore. In fact, we will turn the tables. Whatever humans we do not kill, we will put in homes like the ones they have for mutants all over the world. Like the one I took you from. See how they like it. We will no longer be oppressed. We will be free. Yes, Opal, we will do it. Beautiful, isn't it? Together, we can fight the humans. Defeat them. Destroy them." Opal licked her lips. She didn't want to kill anyone. "I understand why you are afraid. Don't be. Let me show you something. Follow me." He handed her several sheets of paper stapled together. "This is for you," he said as they walked, "This is all our plans, and the part you play in them. Come with me. I want you to see my army."  
  
Magneto led her down a long, metal corridor. At the end there was a door. He walked through the door, closely followed by Opal. Behind her was Pyro. Opal expected another metal chamber; similar to the one she had awoken in. But through the door was a recreation room of some kind.  
  
"Pyro, you take over from her," Magneto said, and then left quickly. Pyro took her to the far side of the room, where several teens were watching a big-screen T.V.   
  
"Hey, guys!" Pyro called, picking up the remote. He flicked the T.V. off, much to the protest of the teens, but their attention was grabbed by his next words. "Guys, meet Opal. New recruit. Opal, this is Sting, Mouse, Harmony, Bullet, Jesu, Ripper, and Spider." The teens smiled and one, Harmony, extended a hand for Opal to shake.   
  
"Hey, kid," she said, "Come and hang with me and my girls later, k?" Opal could do nothing but nod.  
  
"Where are your girls, Harmony?" The one called Spider asked, "I need to talk to Charlene."  
  
"They should be at the pool room. Come on, Opal, come meet my girls." Opal followed Harmony, and Pyro sank onto the space she had left in the couch and turned the T.V. back on. Opal followed Harmony down another hall. They never did reach the 'pool room', however, because just as Harmony was about to open the door, Opal collapsed. The lights began to flicker, then the bulbs exploded. Harmony began to rise off the floor. A strange wind tore through the hall, and Opal's black zip-hoodie, which she had tied around her waist, caught fire. The flames, however seemed not to bother the girl. But that may have only been because she was already in extreme pain. Only the whites of her eyes showed, and her back arched in an unnatural position. Harmony began to scream. Then, the hall fell silent. Harmony pointed an angry finger at Opal.  
  
"You did that?" She demanded. Fear played on her face, "But, how? That took more than one power. Electricity, wind, flames, defying gravity. How...?" she trailed off. The sound of running feet entered the hall, and in a matter of moments, at least fifty people stood there, crowding Opal's form, lying on the floor beside the smoldering ashes that once were her hoodie. Opal swallowed. She knew what would happen from here. It was always the same. They knew now just what she could do. They would through her out, leave her to fend for herself; to be picked up by some one else, only to be thrown out again. It had happened so many times before. Well, Opal thought, not this time. This time no one would through her out. If they were so determined to do so, they would have to catch her first. She stood, then stirred a power up inside of her. She just picked one at random and hopped for the best. Thrusting out her hand, she wondered more than every one else what would happen. As it turned out, all that were gathered found themselves pinned against the walls. Telekinesis, she thought, handy. But the others were fighting back. Opal couldn't take on all of them. In a matter of seconds, she was forced on her back, struggling fitfully. It was no use. Magneto approached her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.  
  
"Remarkable," he whispered, "You are, truly, remarkable."  
  
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Authors Note: Hope you like it so far! Please Review!  
  
P.S.: If you can think of a cool mutant name for Opal, please let me know. I can't think of one! 


	3. The Escape

Disclaimer: Ok, I think that every one knows what these are supposed to say. So, I won't bother saying it.  
  
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Opal was in some sort of office. She was sitting on a steel chair, with Magneto in front of her.  
"What," he asked, "did you do? What happened?" Opal looked down. "Tell me!" He shouted. Opal took a breath. She tried to speak, honestly, she really did, but after more than four years out of use, her vocal chords wouldn't co-operate. "Fine," Magneto said, "Fine. If you won't tell me, then I have other ways. I know how to get what I want."  
"Wait," Opal said. Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat.  
"Yes," Magneto encouraged her.  
"I," Opal started, then faltered. How to explain it.? "I can't always, well. Ok. I'm empathic. That is one of my talents. I sense other people's emotions, and also their powers. I can also imitate powers. So, you can imagine how hard it is to be around other mutants. I can feel their power, inside my head. I know how to use it. The more people with powers there are near me, and the harder it is to control. Sometimes I can't handle it. All of the powers I feel just come out. Like an explosion. I can't control it." She swallowed hard. That was the most she had said at once in her whole life. Mostly her answers were short, if she answered at all. Magneto sat back in his chair, his fingertips touching in front of him.  
"Is that so?" he asked, "Well. We must find away around this flaw. Really, Opal. I thought that you were a jewel. Apparently, you are little more than fool's gold. If you had a different talent, then I would have you killed, but you do not. So, Mystique?" Mystique appeared from the shadows, "Take her to her room. Tomorrow we will begin her training."  
  
Opal lay in another comfortable bed. Her fists were clenched hard. She ground her teeth, thinking. She wanted to get out. She didn't want to fight. She just wanted to find someplace to live, where no one cared about her past. Stop wishing, she thought, that's not going to happen. I need away out of here, but what? On her many trips through the hallways, she had noticed an advanced security system. Button cameras, tiny microphones and such. How to avoid all that? Thankfully, there was no cameras in Opal's room, so getting out was merely a mater of. . . .  
  
Opal crawled along the metal pipe. It was really only a foot in diameter, but it worked well. Good thing that one of Opal's former acquaintances could grow and shrink in size. Opal simply had to call up the memory of the feel of his power. The duct smelled of dust. Yuck. Opal tried hard not to sneeze. She even held her breath at times. She crawled for what seemed like hours. Then the end of the tunnel approached fast towards her. She almost missed it in the dark. She wiggled it around. No use. It must have been locked. She closed her eyes then opened them again. Her eyes, now adjusted to the dark, peered around. There were four bolts holding the end together. She called up some telekinesis and slowly unscrewed the bolts. Too much! Her mind screamed. To many powers! Can't.hold.on.  
  
That's when she lost it. Telekinesis rippled out and shoved the panel forward. Her eyes shone bright white lights. The strange wind returned, and the ground outside went up in flames. The tunnel exploded and shot Opal several meters out. She landed in a snow bank, gasping. A siren went off somewhere. She got up and ran, but she couldn't muster the energy. Why am I running, she thought, when I can. and she took off into the black night sky. She flew, looking for a place to go. Just mountains. No one was following her. She smiled. Actually, her lips only tugged upwards slightly, maybe an inch or two, but for her it was a huge show of emotion. She soared until a small village appeared below her. She flew lower, spiraling down like a bird. She flew low over one of the houses, about to land. Before she could muster a smooth landing, exhaustion of all the powers she had used took over, and for the second time in two days she was unconscious.  
  
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Author's Note: Please Review!  
  
P.S.: I'm still looking for a cool mutant name for Opal, so please let me know if you think of one! 


	4. The School

Disclaimer: I don't own X-men. Don't own nothing. Except for Opal. She is mine. Take her, and I will kill you.  
  
P.S.: Thanks soooo much to Orphelia-Rose for Opal's new mutant name; Mimic.  
  
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For the second time in a row, Opal awoke in a soft, warm bed. For the second time, she wondered where she was. For the second time, she was slowly brought back from sleep by a voice. But this time, the voice belonged to a woman.  
  
"Oh, I see you are awake. Good," the voice said. It was smooth and soft. A gentle voice. Pleasant to listen to. Opal blinked her eyes open groggily, and looked up into the face of a very pretty woman. Her skin was dark, but her hair was white and flowing. A strange combination, but just right for her. Opal sat up. "Welcome back," the voice said. Opal put a hand to her temple, as if she could stop the headache that was quickly developing. "You have been unconscious for three days, that is, since we found you. It could have been up to a week. That's what the Professor said." Opal was to busy with her headache to wonder who this 'professor' was. "Come on," the voice was speaking again, "I'll take you to the professor. He wanted to meet you." Opal got up, feeling rather dazed, then looked down at her outfit. She scowled at it. Opal had been wearing the same clothes for days, and was much in need of new attire. And a shower. She really wanted a shower. "If you like," the woman said, "I could take you shopping this afternoon, I can tell that you will be needing some new clothes." Opal smiled. "Oh," the woman added, as if in afterthought, "My name is Ororo, but most people call me storm."  
  
Opal followed Storm down a white hallway. Was she in a hospital? No. Opal could sense many feelings around her. Mutant feelings. Mostly coming from above. Another home, then? No, most of the feelings were cheerful ones. The worst were a few students worried about an exam. Where was she?  
  
The pair kept walking. They ascended in n elevator, coming out into a hardwood-floored hall. Teens were walking everywhere. Opal put a hand to her head, trying to block out the searing pain that was throbbing in her temple. They were all mutants. Control, she thought, I must learn control. Opal swallowed. Ororo looked over her shoulder.  
  
"Are you alright?" She asked. Opal nodded, and kept walking. Ororo looked purely concerned, but Opal took no notice to the motherly glance. Just because people looked concerned didn't mean they were. Storm walked through a set of great double-doors and into what appeared to be a classroom. Students were just getting up to leave. A cute boy with blondish hair brushed her arm lightly as he passed. Opal stiffened. She exhaled a small breath of icy steam. The boy looked at her oddly, as did the gloved girl beside him. Opal looked down at her feet. The rest of the class hurried passed; not taking any notice to the girl that had just entered the room. Though some did greet Ororo with a small wave, smile, or hello. Ororo responded to each with a slight smile of her own. Once the teens had all left, a man that Opal had not yet noticed held up a book.   
  
"Physics," he said. Opal looked at him, her face unreadable and blank. "It is a good thing that you woke when you did, Opal. I was beginning top think that we'd loose you. From what I received from you, you were the sole cause to the forest-fire that graced the mountains a few days ago. And you were at the core of the gas-pipeline explosion, as well. So much damage. Ah, well. That is what you are here for, isn't it? To control your powers?" Opal just stared. How had he known? Forest fire. She had started a forest fire? And a pipeline explosion. All within the coarse of an hour, probably. She returned her gaze to her worn black sneakers. He smiled that warm, welcoming smile of his. She did not return it. Instead she glared at him. "I understand that you are scared. Angry. You fell quite alone. Don't you, Opal?" She kept on glaring. Ororo left the room, closing the doors behind her. The man emerged from behind the desk. He was in a silver wheel chair. He moved closer to her. "Come with me, Opal. I would like to show you my school." Opal looked blankly at him. A school? But this place was full of mutants. What about the law? All mutants had to be reiterated, and put into a home. But, this man, he was a mutant. Opal could tell. His emotions, as all mutants were, were more. . . complex than humans. He laughed slightly. "So many questions," he whispered, but Opal heard it though he was shouting. Then his lips stopped moving, but what he was saying echoed shrilly in Opal's mind, "Maybe I will have time to answer them all." A telepath. Opal was not startled. She knew what this man could do the moment she laid eyes on him. He was probably the most powerful mutant that she had met so far.   
  
He turned his chair, and led her out into the hallway. Only a few students were coming by now. Opal swallowed. She could tell where every student in the school was. What they were feeling. What their powers were. The lights flickered. A small flame, like a candle, started on the professor's sleeve, but he merely blew it out and led her further down the hall. Opal swallowed. Control.   
  
"Now," he began, "This is a school for mutants. The reason that the mutant registration law does not affect us is that, to the public, we are merely a school for gifted youngsters. But, as I know you sense, we are much more than that.  
  
  
  
"Most of my students are runaways. Terrified of their own powers. Some with gifts so extraordinary that they are a danger to those around them, and themselves. Like you, for example. Yes, Opal, I know. We have been living in near-constant blackouts for the past few days. Strong winds and small earthquakes are not uncommon as well. Don't feel bad, it is not your fault. You are not the first. In fact, Lindsay, one of the empaths here is in tears constantly for the first few days before exams, because of all the tension. You'll learn to cope, and, until then, we shall all have to carry flashlights in our pockets." He had meant it as a joke, but Opal felt terrible all the same. Earthquakes and blackouts, even while she was unconscious. It would be far worse while she was awake. Opal swallowed. They were coming towards a place that had many students inside it all at once. She took a breath, as if steeling herself to go underwater, and followed the professor into a huge room. Air-hockey and fuse ball tables were plentiful. A big-screen T.V. was against one wall, surrounded by couches filled with teens. More teens were just sitting on benches around tables, laughing and talking. Despite all the cheerfulness in the room, Opal collapsed. It was just too much. All of them were mutants. Telepathy, telekinesis, fire, ice, water, and many more. They knowledge of countless powers filled her brain, pushing out all thoughts. It hurt so badly. Opal swallowed hard as, for the second time in recent memory, she writhed on the floor, completely out of control of her powers. The ground shook violently. The lights flickered on and off, as if imitating strobe lights. The T.V. exploded. Fire started up, but blazed only in a small circle around Opal's tiny, compact figure on the carpet. Everyone in the room grabbed onto something, couches, tables, each other, so not to be tipped off their feet in the tremor. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. Nothing, save for a scorched spot it the carpet, and the broken T.V., gave witness to what had happened. All that were present looked around for the cause, their eyes settling on the panting figure on the floor, huddled in a ball, as if it was trying to escape. 'I'm sorry.' She shot mentally at the professor, 'I can't control it, But I try. I really do.' 'I know,' he shot back at her, 'I know.'  
  
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Once again, Opal woke in a comfortable bed. She immediately started to cry at the thought of the previous day. The professor had explained that it was all right, and that he would pay for a new. T.V. and that no one was angry, but she still felt depressed. What a great first impression she had made. She dried her eyes and rolled over, only to see a gruff-looking man sitting on a chair beside the bed she had been given. She had her own room. Opal knew she was lucky to be given her own space when most people had to share, but she also knew the reasons for it. Everyone knew that the strange weather had been her doing, and were mortally afraid to go near her. A  
  
She looked at the gruff man quizzically.  
  
"Hey, kid," He said, "Glad to see your up. The Professor said I was to wait until you woke, then give them to you. He said they would help. The man handed her a small bottle, and a note, then left. Odd, Opal thought, but then merely opened the letter.   
  
Dear Opal,  
  
I hope that you are feeling well. In the bottle are pills that a friend of mine created for empaths. They help to block out emotions that you do not want. When you wake up every morning, take one with a glass of water. Take one before you go to bed as well. They should help. Your time table is enclosed as well.  
  
Professor Xavier  
  
Opal opened the bottle and took out a single pill. It was blue. She popped it in her mouth, and swallowed it, with the assistance of the glass of water she had placed on her bedside table the night before. She immediately felt her headache subsiding. She smiled. 


	5. Coffee, and a meeting

Disclaimer: Still don't own X-men. Opal is still mine. If you take her, I will still kill you.  
  
P.S.: Words in italics in wavy lines (~like this~) represent Opal talking to the Professor (or visa versa) using telekinesis.   
  
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Opal yawned and hopped out of bed. She picked up her timetable. It appeared to be an ordinary junior-high timetable. Math, history, language arts, science. Every boring thing that you would see in an ordinary school. Opal sighed.   
  
She was about to leave the room when she noticed a stack of clothes lying on a chair, accompanied by a note. Opal picked up the note and read;  
  
Opal,  
  
The Professor said that you would like these. I wasn't quite sure about your sizes, so I merely guessed. If some of the clothes don't fit, please let me know.  
  
Ororo  
  
Opal picked up the first item in the pile. It was a black tank top, similar to the one she was wearing, but it had small, embroidered flames along the bottom. The rest of the clothes were similar, all black, with an occasional flame, or dragon. There were five shirts in all, three pairs of pants, a zip-hoodie, and a pair of black hiking boots. Opal smiled, they were perfect for her. Her smile faded as she had another thought. How would she pay for them? She sighed. She would find a way. Opal dressed herself in a black tank top with a blue dragon on the front, and a pair of black sweatpants. She brushed out her hair, then, seeing as it was only six-o'clock (she had always been a naturally early riser) she sat on her bed and picked up one of the text books that had been left on her desk. She leafed through the pages for a while, occasionally checking the clock. Then, at promptly seven, a bell rang in the distance. Opal jumped, but then realized it must be the wake-up bell. Then she groaned, suddenly realizing that the rest of the day, and many days after that, would be measured by an endless supply of bells.   
  
She was about to see what she was supposed to do about breakfast when a slight tap on the door woke her from her thoughts. Opal went and opened the door and found the cute blonde, and the gloved girl that she had seen the previous day outside her door.  
  
"Hi," the boy said, "I'm Bobby. Some people call me Iceman." Opal took the hand he offered her to shake. He could make ice. She knew it the moment their hands met. Then the girl spoke, "I'm Rogue," she said, Rogue could borrow people's powers, but it drained them of energy, "I'm glad you're up, the Professor sent us to get you for breakfast, come on." Rogue spoke with a southern accent. Bobby spoke with a light, polite, almost lilting voice that Opal could tell her reserved especially for strangers. Opal did not return their welcoming smiles, but merely followed them down the hall to a large kitchen.  
  
"Mostly, people eat in the rec-room," Rogue said, "But right now, it's only 7:00, so the kitchen should be almost empty." Rogue sat down on a stool at the large island that covered most of the kitchen. Bobby busied himself making coffee.  
  
"You drink coffee, Opal?" He asked. She nodded. "Good. Best thing for you!" he was warming up to her now, not treating her like a stranger. Opal wondered why. She hadn't shown any interest in becoming his friend. Oh well, she thought, some people are just like that. Rogue and Bobby talked for a while; they even tried to include her in their conversation by asking her questions. She only answered with a shrug or nod. When the coffee was ready, Bobby poured a mug for each of them, and was about to put the pot away, when two girls walked in.  
  
"Awww, Bobby, don't put it away! Get out some more mugs for us," the first said. The second jumped right in, "Yeah, Bobby, we always arrive at this time every day, and you always put the pot away. You really should learn." Both girls started laughing, and Rogue joined in. Bobby only shook his head, smiling. He poured two more mugs, and the other girls were about to sit down, when a strange, blue figure appeared in the room. **BAMF!** Opal jumped at the sound. It was the strangest noise she had ever heard. Then she calmed. He was a teleporter.   
  
"Is zere enough for von more cup?" He asked, speaking in a very strong accent. Bobby smiled and nodded. Then, as if just remembering Opal was in the room, he said, "Oh! Guys, this is Opal," Opal looked at her mug. "Opal, meet, Jubilation Lee, but we all call her Jubilee, Kitty, or Shadowcat, and Kurt, or Nightcrawler." They all smiled and waved, though Kitty backed up a little and her smile was incredibly false. She seemed slightly afraid of Opal.   
  
Another bell rang in the distance, and several teens rushed into the room, grabbing bread to make toast, opening the fridge, or fighting loudly over who would get the last cup of coffee in the pot before it needed refilling. It was very noisy. The calm of the morning was shattered. Opal held her breath as her headache returned. It was not as bad as the previous night. It wasn't unbearable, but Opal knew that if she stayed in the room much longer, she could lose control again. Not something she wanted to happen.  
  
Opal slipped unnoticed out of the room and into the hall. She walked for a little while, then leaned against a tall, wooden pillar. Her temple was still throbbing, but it was ceasing fast. She sighed. How could she go on like this? She knew she couldn't. And classes! She sighed again at the thought of being all day in the same room with countless other mutants. She needed to escape for a little. She was thinking of taking a walk when a gloved hand gripped her shoulder.  
  
"Hey, you ok?" It was Rogue. Opal nodded, and let her hand drop from her temple. She looked at her shoes. "What happened?" Opal shook her head. She looked back up into Rogues eyes and swallowed. Kitty and Jubilee were standing not to far away, whispering to each other. Opal concentrated on their words.  
  
"She's so... odd!"  
  
"I know. I don't see how she'll fit in."  
  
"Bobby said that she hasn't said a word since she got here."  
  
"I know. I know that the professor usually has a reason to bring in more students, but none of them were like this!"  
  
"Yeah. Even if they were a little weird, none of them could do what she does!"  
  
"Mmhmm. All the weather we've been having was her fault. She's gonna make this place collapse 'round our ears if were not careful."  
  
"Yup." Opal stopped listening. She didn't want to hear anymore. She returned her gaze to her shoes.  
  
"Oh, hi, professor!" Kitty said. Professor Xavier was wheeling towards them. Uh oh, thought Opal.   
  
"Hello," the professor replied, "Opal, please come with me." She swallowed hard, and followed him down the hall, leaving the three girls to whisper rapidly to each other. They sounded like hissing snakes.  
  
The professor led Opal into his office, and rolled behind the desk.  
  
"Please, sit" he told her. She sat in one of the soft armchairs in front of the desk. ~Do you know why you are here?~ his voice echoed in her mind. She shook her head. ~I wish to speak with you about what happened, before we found you.~ Opal swallowed. The doors leading to the hall opened, and in walked three people, two of them Opal already knew.  
  
"Ah, you are just on time," said the professor, moving out from behind his desk. "Opal, you already know Ororo, or Storm. And I believe you briefly met Logan, also called Wolverine." He motioned to the gruff man that was there when Opal woke. He nodded. "The one you have not met is Scott, also called Cyclops." Scott stood, hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart. Like super man. He wore red-tinted shades. Scott stuck out his hand, quite abruptly, almost mechanically, for Opal to shake. She took the offered arm.   
  
"Now that our company is all present, I have a few things to discuss. Opal, I want to ask you some very serious questions that must be answered. The future of man and mutant kind lies in your hands," she sucked in her breath. He was going to ask about Magneto. She knew he was. He cocked an eye slightly.  
  
"Opal," he continued, "Will you answer?" ~Why don't you read my mind?~ she shot at him, her mental voice full of sarcasm. He sighed. ~I f you prefer to discuss this mentally so they can't hear-~ she cut him off, ~I do.~ ~Alright.~ he sighed again. ~Opal, you know I can't read your mind. You are blocking me. You will only let me hear, or see, our conversation. Nothing else. Why are you hiding from me? What knowledge or experiences are you so anxious to protect? What secrets do you know?~ ~If I told you that, they wouldn't be secrets, would they?~ She glanced behind her, hearing Storm suck in her breath. She caught Logan with raised eyebrows, and Scott with his mouth slightly open in surprise. She knew automatically what was happening. The professor was feeding their conversations into the others brains. Her opinion of his doings showed clearly on her face. Her eyes turned cold, her mouth went up in a sneer of distrust. ~You traitor! ~ She cried in her mind, ~You said they couldn't hear!~ ~Opal, wa-~ She cut off the mental connection so abruptly that he couldn't even finish his sentence, blocking him from entering her mind at all. He tried again, speaking this time, "Opal, wait, I..." but she was gone. She ran out of the room, down the hall, and outside. She kept running until she reached a large garden across a small field. There she threw herself down under a tree and burst into tears, burring her head in her arms.   
  
The professor sighed. He was going to have a harder time with this girl than her thought.  
  
"What is she so eager to hide?" Scott asked, motioning towards the door.  
  
"I'm not sure," the professor replied, "Memories, probably. You can tell she has not lived a happy life. She is trying to block me out. Even when she was unconscious, there was only a limited area of her mind I could enter. All I got from her then was the basics. Her name, powers, and, oddly enough, a few details about these attacks she's had."  
  
"But, what are the attacks," Logan demanded gruffly.  
  
"They are some sort of...seizure, I suppose, brought on when she is around to many mutants. She absorbs all of the powers around her, and she can't control all of them. Young mutants are always losing control, but when she does it is so much more obvious. Apparently, from what I got, she has been in over six different mutant homes in the past two years, because they are all too afraid to keep her." Logan whistled.  
  
"Poor kid," he said, "No wonder she never talks." Ororo nodded in a agreement.  
  
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Author's Note: Umm...yah! Please Review! Let me know if I'm doing anything wrong! I'm always open for constructive criticism! :) 


	6. Nike

Disclaimer: Through complete failure of my most recent plans and strategies I (unfortunately) do not own X-Men (yet). However, through a few rather devious ideas, this will soon change (hopefully). Until then, however, I will still have to add disclaimers in my stories. :)  
  
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Opal sat for a while under the large oak that she had used for a backrest. She then dried her eyes and looked around. She could see the school across the field. It was much bigger than she had expected. A bell rang somewhere, and teens streamed from the building. With many shouts, activities began. Some children started up a game of basketball. Others ran friendly-looking races. Some sat around picnic tables and talked. Opal sighed. She wanted to be among them. To run. Laugh. Belong. She moved around to the other side of the tree. She didn't want to look at them. She stood and walked deeper into the forest. It was beautiful. Every tree was tall, majestic. Flowers grew everywhere. A small stream trickled past over smooth stones. Opal smiled. She would love to simply live here. Forever.  
  
Opal decided to climb one of the oaks, and reached for the first branch. She looked up, expecting to see a leafy canopy, but her view of the leaves was obscured by a face.   
  
"Hi!" the face said. Opal fell over backwards in shock. The face laughed. The face belonged to a girl. She had a pale complexion, framed by golden curls. Freckles graced her nose and cheeks. The girl laughed again at Opal's startled face. She was a mutant. Or was she? Opal couldn't really tell. No, wait. Yes. She was a mutant. Her thoughts had the right patterns. But, what could she do? It wasn't something that Opal could sense. Her emotions were hard to grasp, too.   
  
"Hi!" The face said again. "My name's Holly, but every one calls me Nike." Opal just stared, to shocked to react. I wonder, Opal thought, does she go to school here? As if answering her question, the girl- Nike?- said, "Do you go to school at the mansion? My Aunt says it's for gifted kids, but I'm not allowed to go there. There's a rumor that it's full of mutants! Are you a mutant? I'm not." Opal stared. But, her thoughts were so much more complex. How could... No. If this girl said she wasn't a mutant, she wasn't. "Wanna come see my fort? I built a tree fort. It's just up there. See it?" Opal didn't want to see. She wanted to get back to school. She really wanted to apologize to the professor. She was hungry, too. "Forget about whatever you have to do," Nike said, "Just come on." What was it she wanted to do again? Opal didn't remember. It could wait, whatever it was. She really did want to go up, now that she thought about it. The offer was so inviting. "I made it all by myself. Every piece of wood I laid down by myself. Every nail." Opal thought this was impossible. It was huge! It even had blue paint on the inside, and the outside was painted to match. It had a shingled roof, and six rooms. "You don't believe me, do you?" Nike asked, her smiles disappearing. "Well I did do it. I really did." Well, ok, then. If she said she did, then she did. Then a voice penetrated the air.  
  
"Nike? Nike, where are you?" Opal had heard the voice before. Nike sighed.   
  
"Yes?" she called down from the window.  
  
"Have you seen Opal? I'm supposed to look for her, and I know she passed this way." Nike stuck her head back in.   
  
"You're name Opal?" She asked. When Opal nodded, she called, "Yeah, she's up here with me. Want me to bring'er down?"   
  
"Yes, please. And you had better come down, too. Break is almost over." Nike sighed.   
  
"Come on, we'd better go," she said. Opal stared. "Don't you ever talk?" Nike demanded. Opal shook her head, and shamefully looked at her shoes.  
  
"You should. Yup, you definitely should talk," The other girl said. Opal looked at Nike. She was right. After all, Opal really didn't have a reason to be silent, and Once again, the suggestion sounded so inviting.   
  
"Ok," Opal told her, "I will." Nike grinned broadly.  
  
The two girls climbed down. Opal looked into the person that had been calling. It was Pyro!  
  
"Hey, Opal," he said, "I'm glad Nike found you. You will find she can be very...persuasive. You see, I sent her, because we need you. You are crucial to our planning. So, come with me." Opal stared at him, and, very levelly, she shook her head.  
  
"No, I won't" she said, her voice much louder than she had meant. Pyro sighed and said, "I think I liked you more when you were silent. Nike?" Nike looked Opal in the eyes.  
  
"Opal, come on. You should come with us." Well, when you put it that way...   
  
Opal walked with them to a black convertible, parked on a near-by road. Opal hopped in the back with Nike. Wait! She thought, what am I doing! I need to be at the school! If I go back, they will make me fight!   
  
"Calm down," Nike told her, "You really need to relax. I think you should relax." Opal sighed. Taking Nike's advice was so calming. It made her truly...happy. But she had no idea why.  
  
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Authors Note: Ok, if you don't get it yet, you are probably not alone :) 


	7. Mimic

Disclaimer: Don't own X-men. Don't own the good guys, or the bad guys. I only own Opal. And Nike. They are mine.   
  
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Opal woke for what seemed like the umpteenth time with a headache. She raised her hand to her temple, then sat up to look around. Where was she? It wasn't the school, nor was it the room where she had met Magneto. She couldn't remember anything of the previous day. Or was it the day before that? Was this really the same day? She didn't know what time it was. Or even what day of the week. The last thing she remembered was she feeling that she should just do...something. "Just do it," someone had said. It immediately put her in mind of the company Nike. Nike? NIKE!!!! Everything came rushing back. She had been abducted. But why? Why did Magneto want her so badly? She couldn't be that important to the war, could she? Then she remembered that she hadn't even glanced at the papers that Magneto had given her during her first abduction. For all she new, she could be! What had Pyro said? "You are crucial to our planning." But why?  
  
Opal glanced around the room. It was white. Everything was white. The floor, ceiling, walls. Everything but the bed she was on, which was oak with pale blue sheets. She couldn't see a door. She couldn't see the walls, ceiling, or floor, for that matter. It was like in movies. Sci-fie movies, when the aliens lock the human they have abducted in a white room, and laugh through hidden cameras as they tried to escape. She chuckled at the notion. Well, if Magneto was watching, which Opal was sure that he was, she would simply have to not give him anything to laugh at. She hopped out of the bed, and began making it. Exactly like a little girl trying to please her mother. She took her time. Then, she walked outwards, away from the bed. It wasn't long before her hand, which she had stuck out in front of her, hit a wall. She smiled, then, without taking her hand off the wall, she walked. Right into a corner.   
  
"Ouch!" She moaned, grabbing her nose, which had collided with the other wall that connected with the one she had her hand on to make a corner. She bent and took off one boot. She left it there at the corner, as a marker. She kept walking, feeling along the wall for the telltale crack that would mark a door. She felt all along one wall. Nothing. Next wall. Nothing. Third wall, nothing. Then, coming up to the corner she had left her boot in, she found a hole. Tiny. She would have missed it, should she had not had the tip of her pinky slide into it a little. It wasn't more than half a centimeter, at most. Probably less. Keeping one finger on it, she took a single bobby pin from her hair. She unfolded it, and slipped one end into the lock. She wiggled it for a minute. Nothing. No matter how hard she pressed, how she moved it, the lock wouldn't click. She closed her eyes tight, concentrating hard. When she opened them, the inside mechanisms of the lock were available for her to look at freely. She laughed lightly. It wasn't an ordinary lock! Of coarse. On the outside, there was a retinal scanner, and six different combination locks. Also, there was a key-pad, with another code to open the door. There was also a DNA scanner. A heat-sensitive room was before that, she could see, and punching a code into a small box outside another door(Which also had several locks, combination and key) could turn off the sensitivity of the room. Opal scowled. What was she? Some sort of top-secret weapon that Magneto was afraid that someone might steal? She gasped and fell backwards, at the sudden realization that, yes, that was exactly what she was.   
  
She wasn't going to be anybodies secret weapon. Abducting her the first time was bad enough, but a second? If they were going to try and use her, first they had to know exactly what they were dealing with. Anger blared inside Opal, anger that she had never before known. Mimic, that had been her nickname, back when she had had friends, back before the law forced her and her friends apart. Well, she was going to show them exactly what she could mimic. She wasn't going to be anyone's plaything, kept locked up until needed. No. Of that, she was sure.  
  
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Authors Note: And the plot thickens! * Insert creepy music here! :) * OK, after this, the story will follow Nike and Pyro for a few Chapters. You will have to wait to find out what happens to Opal. Don't worry, I wont make you wait that long!! If you don't like this arrangement, then you can stop reading here and now, cuz it ain't gonna change, no many how complaints I get, so don't even try!! 


	8. Pyro and Nike

Disclaimer: Still don't own X-Men. Once again, my genius plots have proved not so genius after all. Oh well. Back to the drawing board!   
  
A/N: As promised, the story will start following Nike and Pyro for a while. But I promise that it will not take to long! This is just my way to try and keep you interested. As well as explain some things that you mught not get. Cheers!  
  
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Pyro stood in the corner of his room, flicking his lighter on and off. He was glaring at the blond girl perched on the end of his bed.  
  
"So," he said, "What are we going to do?"  
  
"Well," Nike replied, "First you are going to stop flicking that lighter. It is annoying me." Pyro kept flicking. Open, flame, shut. Open, flame, shut. He smirked at Nike, daring her to say something.  
  
"I think," Nike said, "You should stop flicking your lighter. It would be a good idea." Pyro furrowed his brow, as if trying to fight off some unseen power. Droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead, but in a minute or two, he stopped playing with his lighter, and slipped it into his pocket.  
  
"I hate you," he muttered.  
  
"I know," Nike replied, smiling despite his glare. "Come on, Pyro, concentrate, and forget about your lighter." Pyro did so.  
  
"Ok," he said. "Opal can't get out, but we still need more mutants. They will not come willingly, so..." Nike finished for him, "That's where I come in. We start small, with mutants that are registered, but still living with their parents, or other family members."  
  
"But how do we get the files, threaten the politicians?" Pyro asked sarcastically.  
  
"No, stupid!" Nike cried.   
  
"Well," Pyro said, "What are we going to do, then? Just waltz on in there, and take them from a drawer, while the guards look over our shoulders, making sure that we take all the right files?"  
  
"Actually," Nike replied, "That is exactly what we are going to do." Pyro looked at her quizzically. He was about to say something, but she put a hand up. "You forget," she continued, cutting off his comment before it started, "What I can do. With a few words from me, the guards will be begging us to take the files." Pyro smiled, then laughed. With Nike there, nothing could go wrong. Or so he thought....  
  
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Author's Note: And the plot is STILL thickening! OK, for the REALLY stupid people out there, (I know there are some) in case you haven't figured it out, Nike's power is persuasion. Does that make it make more sense? Any ways... sorry about the shortness* of the chapter, but I'm sick today (So you all have to feel sorry for me!). If you read, be kind, rewind... er... REVIEW! Even if you don't like it, tell me what I' doing wrong! Thanks!!  
  
* Is that actually a word? 


	9. The Truth

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! Clear enough for you?  
  
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Nike crept cat-like along the blackened streets in the dead of night. Her tightly laced sneakers didn't make a sound on the worn asphalt. She was equipped with a walkie-talkie, rope, a small knife, and lock-picks. She was dressed from head to toe in black, so as to be more invisible in the night...  
  
Ya, right!  
  
Nike smiled and applied another coat of cherry lip-gloss. She stuck the case back into her red purse. Nike lightly brushed a piece of lint off of her red top. Her pink flip-flops flipped pleasantly against the smooth pavement. She wore short, blue cutoffs. Pyro walked beside her, also casually dressed. They arrived at the building that they were looking for. It was at least twenty stories. It was completely covered in windows, though the windows were all, of coarse, tinted black. Definitely a government building. Nike and Pyro entered. A sign near the door, complete with a map, said;  
  
Mutant Registrations Office   
  
Nike consulted the map for a moment, and then walked towards the elevator.  
  
"Hey, kid!" Someone yelled. Nike turned.  
  
"Yes?" She asked.  
  
"You are not supposed to be in here. As guard of the office, I will have to escort you out." Nike smilled at the man.  
  
"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said.  
  
"Oh, ok then. What is it that you want?" He asked. Nike smiled again.  
  
"I would like you to show me to the files of registered mutants. If you would be so kind." The guard grinned.   
  
"Right this way, miss. Come with me." He led Nike and Pyro to the elevator, and up to the top floor. "Through this room here." They crossed the threshold to a large room filled with filing cabinets. "Now, do you want the files of mutants living with parents or relatives? Or perhaps..." Nike cut him off.  
  
"The first, please," she said, throwing him one of her award winning smiles. He grinned stupidly. Nike could have that effect on people. He led the two to a large filling cabinet against the far wall.  
  
"Ok, Here y'are! Now, each drawer is labeled with a series of letters. Like, here. M's-T's. Labeled for names. But in this cabinet next to it, they are labeled for powers. You'll find all of the people who can create things, fire, ice, etcetera, in the 'C' section. Are you looking for a certain person, or just for certain powers?"  
  
"Powers," Pyro said.  
  
"Hey, pall," the guard said gruffly, "I was talking to the lady! Not you, so but out." Nike smiled at her comrade then turned to the guard.  
  
"Powers would be fine. Preferably people who can create or control, but also shape shifters, and people with psychic powers."   
  
"Ok," the guard told her, bending down to get a better look at some of the lower drawers, "The creators and controllers would be in the 'C's. Psychics would be under 'T' for telepathy, telekinesis. Stuff like that." Nike grinned at him and opened the drawer labeled 'A'-'E'. She leafed through it until she found 'Control, Fire' and 'Create, ice'. She plucked out both folders. She then looked randomly, pulling out 'Control, explosions,' and 'Create, pain'. She looked at Pyro as she pulled out the last one.  
  
"Look, Pyro," she demanded, "Pain casters. I've never seen this before. Interesting." Pyro took the file and looked through it.  
  
"Only about six of them, by the looks of it," he commented.  
  
"Hey," the guard commanded, "Shut up, you." Nike laughed, and the guard flushed.  
  
"Now," Nike said, "Open the 'T' through 'Z' file, please." The guard did so, and from there she pulled 'Telekinesis', 'Telepyro', and 'Telepath'. She also took out 'Teleport', but didn't seem to want to.  
  
"Thank you," she said to the guard, "Leave, please. I would like to have a minute alone with my colleague." He tipped his hat at her.  
  
"Yes, Miss." He threw one last angry glare at Pyro before strolling from the room, closing the door behind him. Nike opened the 'P'-'T' box, and looked through it until she found 'Shape shifters'. She pulled out the folder, and handed in to Pyro.  
  
"I'm gonna go find a bathroom, k?" Pyro said. Nike nodded. He placed the folders on the ground and headed out the door. Actually, Nike was glad he was gone. It gave her a moment to check something.   
  
Carefully, she opened a box two cabinets down. For registered, but escaped mutants. The 'P'-'T' box. She kept looking furtively over her shoulder. Her hand shook. She took a deep breath, then pulled out a file labeled, 'Persuasion'. She drew in another shaky breath, then opened the file. Each person had a few sheets stapled together. Nike glanced at the first one. Bueford; Hillary. No good. The second was Douglas; Archer. Third, there was Goodall; Nathan. Then came Hendrick; Matthew, Jackson; Violet, Newman; Kristen, and Pierce; Jonathan. Nike held her breath and slowly turned to the last section in the folder. In letters that seemed to jump out from the page, Nike read, Reese; Holly, her own name.   
  
"Oh, God," she whispered. Nike dropped the papers. They fluttered to the ground. She silently stooped to pick them up. She was still registered. Magneto had lied. He had told her that, should she join the brotherhood, her files would be erased. No more running. To Nike, it had sounded like heaven. Nike, the great persuasionist, conned by someone without half the persuasion skills that she had, even without her gift. And she had been stupid enough to fall for it. Tears of anger burned her flushed cheeks. It had all been a lie. As she stood, there was a police force that was specially trained to look for her and other mutants like her. Escaped.   
  
She finally knew the truth.   
  
Pyro came back into the room.  
  
"Nike?" he asked. She gasped and spun around. She hadn't heard him come in. With one look at the steady flow of tears raining down her cheeks like two waterfalls, he knew something was wrong. "What is it?" he asked her, "What's wrong? Nike?" Voicelessly, she thrust the papers at him. He took them and read the first page. It wouldn't really make sense to him. He did not know her real name. "Some kid named Holly Reese. So?" Nike waved a hand at the paper, still sobbing. Pyro turned the page. He turned the next and gasped. On the page was a picture. HER picture. Black and white. Full front, and profile, like a prisoner. "Nike, you're registered!" He demanded. She buried her face in her hands and wailed, nodding. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her. She cleared her throat and hiccupped once or twice before answering.  
  
"I w-wasn't sup-posed to be!" she cried, "M-magneto said that if I w-went to work f-f-for him, then he would wipe m-my f-f-files!" She began crying again, and Pyro got no more out of her. He sighed. She straightened, drying her eyes with her wrist. The sadness was gone, and was replaced by ferocious anger. "What did he promise you?" Nike asked. Pyro looked down and mumbled something inaudible.   
  
"What?" Nike asked, leaning towards him. Pyro repeated again, a little louder, but still Nike could not hear.  
  
"He said he'd give me..." Pyro trailed off. Nike looked at him encouragingly. "Respect," Pyro said, looking down. "He promised respect, and training, and..." once again he trailed off.  
  
"What?" Nike asked gently.  
  
"A family." Pyro finished lamely, "He said he'd give me people who would act like a family to me. Good friends."   
  
"Oh," said Nike, not really sure how to reply to that. "Did he deliver?" she questioned.  
  
"Huh?" Pyro asked, confused, for a moment, "Uh, yeah. Well, sort of. He doesn't respect me. Training sucks. But I do have friends. Well, some." He gave Nike a meaningful glance. She blushed.  
  
"You know, I think every one was supposed to be given something by Magneto. I dunno. Maybe there is a war coming. Do you think we're on the right side?" She queried. He thought for a moment, then replied, "I don't know. I haven't wondered that since I came with him." Nike nodded.  
  
"Yeah," she said, "I've been wondering. If Magneto's cause is really so great, and good, and all that, then why are there more mutants fighting against human destruction than for? Why so many trying to stop him? I mean, before I knew I was a mutant, I had a family and all that. People weren't so bad. Then I became a mutant, and all of a sudden I convinced myself they were all some evil, angry monster that wants me dead. I had a best friend," she met Pyro's eyes. Tears were glistening in her own, "She was really nice, even after I found out what I was. When my parents disowned me," she stopped for a few slow, steadying breaths. But it was no use. She burst into tears. She sank back against the cabinets and sat down. Saying the words was like pouring salt in wounds that had not yet healed. Pyro sat beside her, and draped an arm around her shoulder. She dried her eyes and went on, "She hid me in her basement for a week, until her parents found out. I ran away then. I never came back. Thought it was her fault. Why wouldn't she save me? I was just eight. I didn't really understand what was happening to me. All I knew was that, all at once I went from having loving parents, lots of friends, to being all alone." Her blue eyes gave on a misted appearance. She stared at the far wall, but she didn't really see it, "I was there, without anyone. Then they caught me." She drew a shuddering breath, like trying to stop a bad dream. But the memories kept coming, and she buried her head in Pyro's chest. He held her lightly. She sniffed once or twice. "What a place to be pouring out my life's story, hey?" she asked Pyro. He laughed, looking around the little room. She hiccupped. "So, what about you?" she asked, removing her face from his shirt. But he wasn't looking at her. He was busy with the gun pointed in between his eyes.   
  
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A/N: OK, I know, a little sappy, but that's ok! If you read it, please review! I mean, come on people, if you stuck with me this long, drop a line or two. 


	10. GoodBye

Disclaimer: Don't own X-Men. Don't own anyone but Opal and Nike. Everyone else belongs to someone who isn't me. (I'd say that's a fairly safe assumption, huh?)  
  
P.S.: This chap, and a few after this one, will switch back and forth a little between Nike + Pyro and Opal. Each section will be separated by the little lines-and-stars.  
  
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"Oh, hello there," Nike said lamely. The person holding the gun sneered. He was a middle-aged man. There was a woman behind him. She was desperately trying to get her hair straight, and her dress zipped up at the back. She was fighting a losing battle, but Nike didn't bother to tell her that. The man had a bit of lipstick smeared on his chin. Obviously, this was the equivalent to the office supply room.  
  
"Don't talk, mutant," the man spat, "Stand up. Both of you. I heard the whole conversation you two had. Very touching. Trying to get him to love you, hey, girl? Well, my girlfriend and I..." he was cut off by the lady.  
  
"I'm his fiancée, actually," she said, holding out a long hand with a glittering diamond on it. Or, at least it was supposed to be a diamond. Nike scoffed at it.  
  
"It's glass, lady," she said, "Glass and eight carat gold." The lady looked scandalized and slapped her husband to be.  
  
"I paid three-thousand dollars for that!" he cried.  
  
"Then you got ripped. And you deserved it, if you paid three grand for that piece of junk!" Nike and Pyro were both standing now. Pyro had slipped his lighter out of his pocket. He opened it. Nothing.  
  
"Damn!" He whispered, "My lighter died!" The man smirked.  
  
"So, I got you both! Ha! My boss will be very pleased. Especially if you are an escape." He grinned at Nike, who said, "I think you should let us go." He voice was soft. He smirked again.  
  
"Not gonna work, girly!" Nike stared. He was wearing glasses! Her powers only worked when people's eyes were unshielded and bare. The lady was obviously wearing contacts, because she laughed, too. They were done for...  
  
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Opal was meditating. This wasn't the Buda position meditating. Actually, she was lying in her bed, pretending to sleep. Just thinking, really. She was facing away from the buttonhole camera that surveyed her every move. Well, it used to portray her every move. Now it was broken. No one would find that out for months. She had fed the data-base a loop. With a small twist of her mind, she could turn the camera off. Like now, for instance. The camera had one blind spot, though. The door. That was probably Magneto's stupidest decision ever. Of coarse, why was it stupid? She wasn't supposed to know where the door was. She wasn't even supposed to know that there was a door. She wasn't supposed to se the camera. She wasn't supposed to watch the people who saw her through the one-way glass. But she did.   
  
She could see every one of the people who took shifts watching her behind the little window. She felt like a prisoner. The only way out was through a door that was heavily guarded. Though every one that wanted to could see her.  
  
Strangely enough, Magneto didn't ever seem to watch her. Or, he only did when she was sleeping. She sighed, ignoring her grumbling stomach. Some mutants didn't eat. Didn't need to, but she did, and she didn't know which powers were connected with not needing to eat. Three days. Opal had been there three days, as far as she knew. It could be more or less. She hadn't eaten. She hadn't been given any food. Maybe she wasn't expected to eat.   
  
She sighed and got out of bed. She instinctively checked her watch. It was gone. It had been gone when she got here. She looked over where the one-way glass was. Time to have a little fun.   
  
Time to escape.   
  
There were two men there. Both were wearing business suits. They had watched her before, a lot, actually. Snoozer sleeping in front of a computer screen, feet propped up on the desk. Coffee-man was drinking coffee, watching her. When she got up, coffee-man poked his partner. Snoozer woke with a jump. Opal walked over to the window so that she was a few feet away. She blew them a kiss. The two men stared. She raised her finger, just one, the middle one, in front of her face. 'I see you,' she mouthed. She cocked one eye-brow, and pulled her lip up into a half smile. She angled her face towards the ground, looking up at them through her bangs. She winked. It was such a simple gesture, but so threatening. Coffee-man knocked over his cup getting to his phone. Snoozer was about to send an email. Opal didn't give them a chance. They were in league with her captor. They deserved to die. The glass pane shattered. Both men screamed. 'Good-bye,' Opal mouthed. Wind whipped back her hair. She raised one hand. The hand was cupped around a fireball that was the size of a baseball and growing.  
  
"Hope you enjoyed life," she told them, her voice light, "Because now you are going to die." She spoke with the casualty of someone quoting the weather. They didn't even get a chance to scream.  
  
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A/N: So, what do you think? PLEASE TELL ME! Even if you have already reviewed once, do it again. 


	11. Monsieur and the Weapon

Disclaimer: Anyone you saw in the movie, I don't own. K?   
  
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Nike swallowed. For the first time in years she was scared. Scared for her life.  
  
"Come with me," the man said. "Put your hands on your head. That's it. OK, come on. Marie, you lead. No, go first, mutants." Pyro and Nike followed the lady down the hall and to the elevator. They got off at the 14th floor. Marie led them down the hall to a door at the end. She knocked. A man opened the door.  
  
"Monsieur is Dumont is busy now, I wouldn't go in there if I were you," the man said in a heavy French accent. Marie pushed right passed him.  
  
"Yah?" she asked, "Well now he's busier. Monsieur, you had better see this." 'Monsieur' looked up. He was a wide man, with graying hair, and a mustache.  
  
"Yes?" he asked in a gruff voice.  
  
"These two," said the man, "Were in the filling room, looking through the files. That one," he roughly thrust Nike forward, "Is an escape. I don't know who the other is." Monsieur grunted.  
  
"Yes," he said, addressing Nike, "I remember you. Holly, isn't it?" Nike thrust her chin upwards pridefully. "Yes, you gave us a lot of trouble. That you did." He stood, grunting a little as he did so. "I remember the day you escaped. You were only thirteen, were you not?" Nike nodded, "It was a brilliant escape. It was very well planned out. No one could hold you for long. I now make it a point that all my employees wear glasses, contacts, or sunglasses. Yes, I do know your weakness. All mutants have weaknesses. You just have to find them, and then crush them. That is all it takes. Know your enemies. Good advice." He turned away from Nike. "Lock them up." Two heavily armed men, both wearing sunglasses, stepped forward. One grabbed Nike, the other grabbed Pyro. Both struggled, but a quick tranquilizer to each of their necks ended the battle before it even began.  
  
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Opal looked down at the two corpses lying on the ground and smiled. She could just go out the door beyond the room where they had been watching her, but that would be too easy. And the room before it was full of people. God thing the booth was sound-proof. No one had heard the explosion.  
  
The phone rang. Coffee-man's phone. She picked it up.   
  
"Milton? Can you and Gregg cover Bob and John's shift, I..." the voice trailed off as Opal breathed heavily -almost panting- into the phone, both exhilarated and exhausted by the action. "Milton? Are you there? Milton?" Opal smiled.  
  
"Not Milton," she said.  
  
"Not...Mil...who the hell is this? What did you do with them? WHO ARE YOU?"   
  
Opal reached with a tendril of her mind. She tracked the voice as he kept babbling. He was in a third-floor office down town New York. She crawled into his mind. He was single. Divorced once. Facts about his life flowed into her mind. Including the fact that he hated mutants. It fuelled her anger more.  
  
"You know Milton?" Opal asked.   
  
"Y-y-yes. I work with him. I-I-I have the shift before he does, guarding the weapon."  
  
"You had the shift."  
  
"What?"   
  
"I'm out." Opal's voice was singsong, crazed with hatred. Opal reached in to his mind. She shut off his heart, liver, and brain all at once. He was dead before the phone it the desk. She smiled.  
  
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Authors Note: Ok, so, if you wanted Opal to turn into some happy little girl at the mansion, under the guide of Professor Xavier, too bad. As you can see, that's not going to happen. But she's not going to turn in to some bloodthirsty killing machine, either. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!! 


	12. The Man

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own X-Men. I will let you know the second I do, k?  
  
P.S.: Thanks sooo much to all my reviewers! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!  
  
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Nike came to in a cold, dark cell. Pyro was lying beside her, but he was already awake. She could see his eyes glinting in the moonlight, which was the only light in the cell. They seemed to be in a basement. The window was tiny and high up. Also, they were in the country. No buildings got in the way of the stars.   
  
"Pyro?" Nike whispered, "Where are we?" He shook his head. Nike peered out towards the barred door of the cell. A black figure crept by. Whoever it was was holding what appeared to be a ball of light. It wasn't much bigger than a marble, but it shone much brighter than the moon, casting shadows on the person's face.  
  
"What?" Nike asked aloud, "Opal? Is that you?"  
  
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Opal looked once more at the blood-spattered bodies. Shock took over exhilaration. Coffee-man had his eyes wide open. They were blue. He looked perfectly freaked-out. What had he seen? Opal reached into his mind. It was still warm with thoughts, frozen in formation. Opal could read each flying thought like a book.   
  
"Oh, God." "She's gonna kill me." "What the hell?" Most of them read like that. But the most recent one, the one that looked like it was written in blood, said, "Celeste, Amanda, James! I'm sorry!" It had been what he was thinking as he died. Opal furrowed her brow, confused. She looked deeper into the man's memory, and saw what he really was. He wasn't some bloodthirsty guy who had helped to form a conspiracy around her. He had a wife, Celeste, and two kids. Amanda was seven. James was eight. Opal gasped. He only took this job on because it paid well. He loved his wife more than anything. Opal started to cry. She had killed three people in five minutes. She delved deeper into his mind, looking for pictures. Memories. Things he had seen. Again, the most recent, the last thing he saw, was lined in red. It would have been enough to make any child cry. It was she. Olive-skinned, black hair. Her black eyes reflecting the glow of the soccer-ball sized fireball in her hand. And on her lips, spread across her mouth, a crazed, bloodthirsty smile. Her hair was thrown back. Her eyes shone, but he was concentrating on that smile. She had wanted so desperately to kill. Blood lust had showed upon her face. She looked crazy. Hateful. She looked...dead. As if controlled by some other force. Not her self.  
  
She cried, wiping the memory from the man's mind. If she could bring him back to life, she would. She lay for ten minutes, crying. What had she done? What had she done?  
  
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Author's note: Hi! Me again. Ok, kind of short, I know. But review anyways!  
  
P.S.: I'm leaving for holidays soon, so I won't be able to update for the next three weeks or so, k? 


	13. The Test

Disclaimer: My status of X-Men ownarage has not changed since beginning this story.  
  
A/N: Yay! I'm back! I had a great holiday, for those of you who care. This chappie will be really long to make up for disappearing off the face of the earth for a few weeks. K?  
  
P.S.: Yah, yah, I know 'ownarage' isn't a real word, but hey! What am I supposed to call it?  
  
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Opal wiped the determined tears from her face and shakily stood up. This wasn't the time to fall apart. She knew what she had to do. Her lips pursed in determination. She brushed a flyaway wisp of hair out of her eyes, and turned towards the door. She crossed the room to where she had left her hiking boots three days before. They marked the spot where the keyhole was. She took a slow, steadying breath. She had all the time in the world, right?  
  
Right?  
  
Wrong. Just at that moment, three men burst through the door of the demolished watch-room. All were heavily armed, and all wore fireproof suits over Kevlar vests. Each carried a large gun, and several smaller ones. Opal faced them. They were completely shielded. Fire proof. Bulletproof. They even carried oxygen tanks on their backs. Standing with the light from the office bleeding in behind them, they looked exactly like storm troopers from a 'Star Wars' movie.  
  
Time for a little action.  
  
Opal thought for a split second. Fire would be no use. Explosions, no. Telepathy, no. Telekinesis, no. Everything she thought of in that second didn't seem to fit the situation. They ran through the watch-room and into Opal's before she had a chance to think. Then the right power hit her. If she could kill a man with her mind. She didn't want to kill again, but if she managed it just right.  
  
Opal reached out with a hand as she sent small pieces of her mind into their bodies. They weren't ready for this, and it caught them by surprise. Since her mental self was connected to them, she could read each of their thoughts. That was good. At least she'd know if she killed them. She focused on the young man to the left and read his feelings. It felt.odd to him. There was no other way to describe it. It was like he was a puppet. For some reason he was instantly reminded of Pinnochio.  
  
Opal searched through their bodies, soaring through their bloodstreams. It was a strange sensation. Opal stopped flying around inside them, and guided her mental-self to their muscles. "Opal" then called heat from the fireball in her physical self's hands. Just the heat. Not the flame. She pushed the heat into their muscles. Into their nerves. Into their blood streams. The first dropped to his knees, dropping his gun. The others followed suit. Her feelings, by this time, were so intertwined with the young man she had been monitoring, that she actually felt his pain. All of his limbs felt as though they were on fire. They burned. Burned. The pain. It was eating him from inside out. It was over whelming. Agonizing. 'Make it stop," was his only thought. 'Make it stop! Please make it stop!' his mind was begging. His voice screaming out a relentless, babbling howl. Not really words, just and endless scream. It wouldn't stop. The pain. It just kept coming. Opal then realized that she, too was on her knees. She was sharing the man's agony. The connection between their minds had grown so strong in the seconds before the torture began, that Opal had herself been pulled in. She released her grip on the man, and his fellows. They lay gasping in pain. The unbearable agony. Opal herself was in pain. Probably more than them, as she had been sharing with each of them. She struggled to her feet, despite the torturous pang riddling her bones. Her anguish lasted but a few seconds after she dropped the hold. All she had to do was call forward the memory of healing, and she could stand once more.  
  
There would be more coming. Opal knew that. If they did know that she was out, more were several more armed men yet to come. She didn't want to kill many more, and the pain casting had left her dizzy and gasping for breath. So much for sneaking out. She looked over to where her boots sat, marking her original exit. That would no longer work. She slipped her boots on her feet and tied them tightly. Then with a last piteous glance at her latest victims, still writhing in agony on the ground, she headed towards the watch-room. Opal treaded cautiously around the still smoldering room. Small fires remained where the desk had once been. Blood spattered the walls. Any other person would have winced away from all the destruction, but Opal strolled right through it, her face a mask of determination. If she were caught now, while she was still weak, it would be game over.  
  
She walked through the open door. It was open because the 'Storm Trooper' guards had kicked it open, instead of bothering to twiddle the handle. It hadn't been locked. Idiots. Opal peered into the room beyond. It was gray. Dull gray. Actually, in truth it was many different shades of the same dull gray. The room was divided into several cubicles. Each had a computer, desk, small filing cabinets, and many other things you would find in similar dull, gray office buildings. The room was empty. The computers were. Off. The 'In- Out' bins on the desks were all empty. Opal walked towards the nearest computer desk. She put a hand out towards the computer. It was plastic. She picked up the screen. It was light as a feather. Well, not really. Maybe a very heavy feather. it was far to light for a computer screen. It was hollow. The emptiness of the room scared Opal a little. She half expected a tumbleweed to roll across the floor, like in old westerns. A tumble weed did not appear, but something did.  
  
The something was a man. Not a strong, fit, armed man, like the others she had seen. But a rather fat man. The word 'rather' used loosely there. Very loosely. He was about forty. He had an air about him that told Opal that he thought himself the smartest man in the world. "Hello there," he said, his voice dripping false cheerfulness like poison. "My name is... of no importance. It does not matter. To my subordinates, I am Monsieur. My superiors call me. actually I have no superiors." He chuckled as if this was the most amusing thing he had ever heard. "I suppose you are wondering how you got here, as it was Magneto who abducted you. Hmm?" Opal glared at him. She would not give in to this petty game. "You got here," again he paused to chuckle that deep, stupid laugh, "because I made a.bargain with Magneto. I am not in allegiance with him. He is a mutant. I am human. We are opponents. You probably know, of coarse you know, that mutants are gathering forces preparing for this war. What you don't know is that humans are doing the same." A slow, wicked smile spread across his thin, cruel lips. "I needed to know how to defeat mutants powers. The only way I could find out how, other than collecting one of every mutant there is, was to find a mutant with every power. You. You are one of a kind. You were registered. You had your own file all to yourself. Sixteen pages about your potential. Quite impressive for a fourteen year old freak." Opal then realized something that she was surprised she had not. He was talking down to her. Not even that. His tone suggested that he didn't even find her human. Which, Opal remended herself, he probably did not. "I told Magneto," he continued, "that if he could find you for me that he could have anything from me he wanted. Lodgings, money. Anything. He said he would take the offer. Four days ago, when he delivered, I gave him three million." The man smiled again as Opal burned with unbearable hatred. She had been sold? He just kept grinning that stupid grin of his. Why wasn't he afraid? He had to know what she could do. He had to know that she had already killed three people. Maybe he just didn't care. But he would care. Once he was dead. She pulled out power after power, shooting them all at him. Fire, water, ice, pain, explosions. Anything she knew of she tossed at him, but he just stood there, grinning. "I'm not real," he told her, "Try and escape. If you can find me, then by God you may kill me."  
  
The holographic disappeared. Opal screamed in agony and beat her fist against the nearest wall. She the proceeded to destroy the room, breaking apart the fake computers, throwing fire at anything she could burn. She turned towards the watch-room door, intent on finishing her destruction in there. But the room was gone. The door was gone. She stood breathing hard in the midst of ashes and plastic shards. What the hell was going on.  
  
Then she heard the man's voice. "Good job," it said, "You deserve a better place to destroy. Here you are. Phase three" She furrowed her brow in confusion as the room disappeared and was replaced by a small parking lot surrounded by tall office buildings. Opal didn't get it. The man had been a holographic, but the things she had destroyed? How could that work? They were monitoring her. She could sense it. Then all of a sudden she knew. This had all been a test! The white room! The watching men! They had been real enough, the men. The only real things in a world of holographic fakes. They were still testing her, trying to find weaknesses in every power she could imitate. How do you fight that? She was sure that they would just keep feeding her 'phases' until she revealed every power she had. How do you fight something like that? How do you escape from a place that wasn't even there?  
  
Opal looked around to the office buildings. If they had an inside.. She walked up to one. It was locked. She kicked the door open. It flew easily off it's hinges. It did have an inside. No people, though. They probably didn't want to take the time to create anything new. Even the building looked vaguely familiar. Opal looked around. It was an exact replica of somewhere. She couldn't remember where. She glanced around the room. A sign in the corner read MUTANT REGISTRATIONS OFFICE Opal grinned. She had been here before. It had been years ago. Hoping desperately that it was still there, she headed up the elevator towards the filing room, where lists of every registered mutants would be found. If only she could find a power among them to give her a clue!  
  
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A/N: Does anyone actually read these? 


	14. AntiDeception

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and I'm dead broke, so please don't sue me!! :)  
  
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Opal jogged down the hallway and into the file room. Tall metal filing cabinets lined the walls. She walked to the nearest one. Mutants were organized by age. No good. The next had them organized by name. That was no good. The next had them organized by power. Perfect. Opal ripped open the top drawer. A-E it read. Se leafed through the powers, trying desperately to find something helpful. Nothing. The second drawer was the same. And the third. She checked all the drawers, and then crossed to the next cabinet. She leafed through it. Opal glanced at all of the files. Then she stopped, and leafed through them again. What was it that she had seen? She pulled out a small file. 'Anti-deception' it read. Opal opened the file. The first page was a small explanation to the gift.  
  
"Anti-deception", it read, "Means that no one can lie to the mutant with this gift. Even if the culprit does lie, then the mutant will only hear the truth. The mutant will only see, hear, or touch things that are real. You cannot manipulate their mind.  
  
Opal grinned. This was handy. She closed her eyes and concentrated. How was she going to get at the feel of the gift? She needed to know what it felt like. She opened her eyes and picked up the file once more. She flipped over the explanation page, and read the file of the mutant with this power. She lived in New York City. Opal closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She fixed the girl's picture in her eyes and concentrated. Her mental self was instantly placed in New York. Opal took a deep breath and concentrated, looking for this girl. She soared around the city. It was no use. There were to many people. Opal exhaled deeply, She would 'look' for mutant thought patterns, and go from there. She blocked out all of the humans. There were a lot more mutants than she had expected. Her physical self read the age of the girl. Seventeen. She blocked out all of the children and adults. Then all the boys. Now there were only twenty two to check. She blocked out all the ones just reaching adolescence. Only ten. She took a breath and held it. There were four mutant girls around seventeen in the same place. 'Opal' swooped towards them. She searched their faces and thoughts. One was a fetcher. One was a fire-starter, and one was telepathic. The fourth was... bingo. Opal reached into her mind. How to feel her talent? That was easy. Have one of the other girls lie to her. Opal broke off another piece of her mind and fed it gently into one of the other girl's mind. The fire-starter's.   
  
"My hair is pink," the fire-starter said, but the Anti-deception mutant heard, "My hair is blonde". Opal smiled.   
  
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A/N: I know that this is short, but in the next chapter, I'm brining in some new characters, and here is where they come in. If that makes sense. Oh well. 


	15. Lisa

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything, got it? A/N: As promised, I brought in some new characters that will again appear later on.  
  
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Lisa sat on a bench with her friends outside of a popular ice cream parlor. The parlor was on a small road, away from the hustle and noise of New York. Though towering office buildings shot up all around the shop, it somehow had the effect of making one feel that they were far away from the city.  
  
Lisa took another sip of her frozen lemonade and smiled at Jenny. She was the brainy one, Jenny. Her telepathy helped her out there, probably. She was also very caring, due to the small bit of Empathy she had. But her sense of humor was what every body liked about her. And her ability to go from fun loving to book smart in a second amazed and stunned anyone that didn't know her very well. She wasn't the least bit like Alex, which was odd, because they were best friends. Alex was the kind of person who could care less of what people thought of her, but if you insulted her, you could count on having two beautiful black eyes just the same. She had a fierce temper to match her mutation, fire-starting. Then there was Natasha. She sat in a category all on her own. She was shy, but always spoke her opinion. She was smart, but didn't care enough about school to get good grades. She was fit, but hated sports of all kinds. Tasha could fetch things, no matter how far away they were. It was sort of like telekinetics, only she could just think of an object, and there it would be in her hand. When Tasha was in seventh grade, she had forgotten her notebook in her locker when she was in a rush to get to class. The teacher was just about to ask her where her homework was, when it had appeared with a crack like a whip. Lisa and Alex still laughed when they thought of it. They had been in the room when the incident had happened.  
  
The girls were all laughing at another of Jenny's jokes, when just out of the blue, Alex said, "My hair is pink." Of coarse, Lisa heard, "My hair is blonde," but it was still a stupid thing to say. The group went silent. Alex blinked a few times. "What does that have to do with anything?" Tasha asked, as if she was worried for her friends mental health. Alex looked vaguely at her friends. "I dunno," Alex said, "I didn't say it. I mean, I did, but it wasn't me. It was like someone was speaking through me. I dunno," The group looked at Jenny. "It wasn't me!" She cried, "I didn't do that. If you like, I could trace them for." She trailed off, and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Lisa, their still inside you. I can sense them." Jenny closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them. "It's a really strong mutant," she whispered, as if afraid of being over heard, "It's a girl, younger than us. She's looking for your powers, Lisa. Just your powers. Not you." "Huh?" Lisa asked. "Shh," Jenny replied, "I don't get it either. Just a second. Tasha, come here. Tasha switched places with Alex on the bench to sit beside Jenny. "This person wants Lisa, or at least her powers. Oh, I don't know what she will do with them. This person could be a threat. She could be able to suck out Lisa's powers if she's strong enough. I can't tell." Jenny took Tasha's hand. "Tasha," she began, "I want you to.wait" she stopped. "This girl is trapped. She's caught in a room full of.holographics? But that's impossible. They haven't been invented yet, have they?" her friends shrugged, although she was talking more to herself than them. "She wants to find a way out. She sought out your power, Lisa because.Holy shit!" Jenny's eyes snapped open. "What is it?" Alex asked. "This girl, she can imitate others powers!" Jenny exclaimed, "She's being held for some kind of.experimentation, I guess." Silence followed these words. No one seemed to want to talk. "Can we get her here?" Tasha asked. She was very sympathetic to mutants who were being oppressed by humans. Until her seventeenth birthday, she had lived in one of the feared homes of mutants. Jenny shook her head. "I lost contact. But she'll be alright now. She knows how to use Lisa's powers, so she can escape the holographics." "How did she know how to find me?" Lisa asked. Jenny's answer was solemn. "You're registered."  
  
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	16. Peter

Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men, and you probably all know that by now. Oh well.  
  
A/N: OK, ok, I know I haven't been updating a lot lately, but that's ok, isn't it? School satarted up, and I can't believe how much homework Im getting! Oh well, what can you do? Anyways, I promise to be a good little girl, and update regularly from now on. :D ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Opal looked around as the room she was in appeared before her eyes. She smilled. It worked! Carefuly, she crossed the room to the door. She warily opened it a little, carefully, she peeked outside. It was swarming with people. But not guards, ordinary office people. They would be easy to take on. She flung the door open and stepped into the hall. She already had a fireball starting in her hands.Everybody stopped. There were about fifty of them. Women and men swarming throught the hallways like ants. On their way to their plain, gray cubicles. Like ants. Thats what they were. Ants. Easy to squish. The first few came at Opal. She cast her fireball down on the ground in front of her. It swarmed quickly into a protective cricle. She went invisible and walked through the flames, immune to her own creation. No one could see her, they only saw the fire. It soared from floor to ceiling, only burning air. Opal marveled at it for a moment with the others, then turned her destruction on them.  
  
Opal threw out her hands, and with them, all present found themselves squashed against the walls. They still came. There were more than she had expected. She couldn't hold them all! Reluctantly, Opal let go of the people aginst the walls and they fell to the floor with a mighty crash. Another fireball formed in her hands. Her old shield had burnt out. She thrust the newly created ball towards the crowd, then turned her head way at the sight and smell of burning flesh. She faced her opponents once agin. Was it just her imagination, or were there even more coming down the hall? Their numbers had gone from fifty to close to two-hundred in an instant. It just didn't make sense.  
  
Her hesitation, no matter how slight, was enough to let an opening in her attack. The crowd of people came at her. To many for her to fight. But she tried. Oh, yes she tried. But they were to plentiful. She shot fire at them, and ice. Wind tore their perfect ties out of place, and mussed their perfectly gelled hair. They were just office workers, but they were all trained in something. Boxing, karatee, kung-fu. All of them, and many more. It was to much for Opal to take. Plus, they were multiplying, or so it seemed. She held her breath and sunk through the floor to the level below.  
  
Opal landed hard on her back on the level beneath the one she had been on. It was the oddest feeling she had ever experianced. Like swimming, but falling out of the bottom of the pool. Opal looked through the ceiling at the mob. They were looking around, Then they clued in to where she had gone and stormed down to the end of the hall, where there was an elevator. As many as could boarded, and Opal watched the elevator sink down to her level. *DING* The annoyingly cheerful bell sounded. But Opal wasn't around the hear it. She was already gone. She sunk down as many levels as she could, until she reached the bottom floor. It was a basement of somesort. It was dank and dark. A bare bulb dangled from the ceiling. It flickered of and on, fighting to keep it's light yelow glow alive. Then it died completely. Opal blew softly into her hand. A small flame appeared there She cupped both hands around the flame, until it grw to the size of one of her fists. It gave off no heat, onyl light. She crept down the hall of what could only be a dungeon. She heared a dry cough behind her and turned abrupty, only to find that one of the cells that lined the hall was inhabited.  
  
Opal stared into the face of the boy. He couldn't be more than ten or twelve. She peered at him more carefully. Nope. He was closer to fourteen or fiftenn, but his cherubic face made him look innocent. Above his cell door was painted the words "Pain Caster. Rarity: one out of three thousand" Opal glared at the words. So she wasn't the only mutant here. There was at least one more. Then she realized that the boy was staring back. Gawking, really. His mouth was open, his eyes practically bulging out of his sockets.  
"Who are you?" the boy asked. Opal stared for a moment before processing his question. Then, what he wanted clicked.  
"Huh? Oh! I'm Opal," she said. He smiled, but then broke out caughing in his dry, hacking voice. He was sick. Very sick.  
"I'm Peter," he informed her, "How did you get out? No one can break these cells. We've all tried. I don't know what they are, but-" Opal cut him off.  
"We!" she shrieked, "There is a 'we'?" he nodded.  
"At least twelve, that I know of," he replied, "Maybe more. Can you get us out?" Opal nodded. She would sure as hell try. That damn bastard. Not only did he keep mutants locked up, but he didn't even take care of them properly! It was outrageouse. Opal approached the doors. It was a simple lock. The bars were the main thing. They were the toughest metal she had ever seen. But the lock wouldn't take much work. Softly, she closed her eyes and let her mental self soar through the mechanism of the lock. 'Opal' jiggled around a few peices, and the lock clicked open. She swung the door back on it's hinges.  
"Come on," she urged the boy, "Lead me to the others." ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
A/N: Sorry for all of the spelling mistakes that you are likely to find! I can't spell, and my spell check is broken. :'( 


	17. On the Run

Disclaimer: ok, ok, I think you should have gotten the picture by now, but I still do not own anything. Suing me would not be worth your time, as I am dead broke.  
  
A/N: Yes, I know I promised to update and I didn't. Bad me! Bad! I've been really busy. Well, not really, but ya. I'll try to update more often until this story is done (The ending is fairly close guys, so heads up!)  
  
P.S.:OK, I fixed my spell-check, so this chapter shouldn't have to many spelling mistakes, ok?  
  
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Opal followed Peter down the dingy hall, but they had only gone a couple of steps when he stopped. He pressed his head against the bars of another cell.  
  
"Jen!" he hissed, "Jen, are you awake?" A girl of about seventeen rose from a tangle of sheets at the far end of the cramped room.  
  
"Now I am!" she said groggily, "But ... how did you get out?!" Peter grinned.  
  
"This is Opal," he said, "She's here to help."  
  
"Actually," Opal corrected, "The whole building is probably looking for me. I just escaped myself from the upper levels." That alerted both of the teen's attention.  
  
"You what!?" they cried in union, then Jen carried n by herself, "No one has ever escaped from these cells, let alone the high-security ones they have upstairs!" Opal shrugged and set to work on Jen's Lock. By this time, their whispers had awakened a few of the other people, and curious faces appeared at about six or seven cell doors. Opal undid each of their locks in turn, and was introduced. Peter and Jen didn't know the farthest people, and the farthest people didn't know them, so it wasn't just Opal that was getting introduced.  
  
The first few after Peter and Jen came easily. But the girl at the end refused to come.  
  
"I'll stay here, thanks, " She said stubbornly. She had a turned up, prissy little nose that made her look stuck-up, "You go, and die, but I'll stay here." Opal tried to persuade her. She gave in finally, after all eight of the other prisoners were freed.  
  
"Come on," Opal said, opening her door. She grinned and ran past the group shouting   
  
"Escape! Escape!" at the top of her lungs. "Guards!" she shrieked. For a moment, Opal thought that being loud was her mutation, but she was actually telepathic. A tall girl named Meg was the first to react.  
  
"Run!" she screamed, "There's a door along here somewhere!" The group bolted. Idiot, Opal thought, Doesn't she realize that if she's out of her cell, they'll blame her just as much as they will when they catch us? That last thought gave her an all-new spurt of energy.   
  
"Wait!" a boy named James called from the back, "What about the two new ones, that got here just a day or two ago?" The whole group stopped. "They're in a different hallway," He continued, "I know where they are, but I can't work the lock."   
  
"I'll come," Opal said, "You guys keep going. Run as fast as you can. Get as far away as possible."  
  
"There's a wood over there," Meg stated, staring straight at the wall, "We'll meet you there, ok?"   
  
For a moment Opal wondered how she knew. But with one look into her golden eyes she knew how. Meg could look through walls.  
  
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A/N: Ok, I know it was short, but I will have another chapter posted before the day is out! 


	18. Many Points of View

Disclaimer: read what I wrote in all of the other chapters, cuz I'm sick of writing this!  
  
A/N: This chapter will switch points of view a lot, so try to stay with me. I will put whose point of view it is before I start writing with them. Each point of view will be separated by the lines and stars, because they are fun to type! (If you don't believe me, try it sometime!)  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Peter:  
  
Opal seems to be nice, I thought, as I ran down the hall. The rest of the group were running with us, accept for James and Opal, who were headed to save a few more. From now on, we were refugees. Escaped prisoners. It was like the Underground Railroad, only in the twenty-first century, and we are not all black. We are still people fighting depression, though. Mutants.  
  
I felt as if I couldn't run any more. Some of the others were feeling the same. I could see them all slowing. In the distance, I could hear the shouts of the guards, commanding us to stop, like we were dogs. I felt true, burning hatred towards them. Hatred that I have never felt before. I lashed out at them with my. Gift. Normally I refer to it as my curse, but in times like this, it is a gift. They fell to the ground, screaming in pain. I didn't look back. I had seen the effects of my pain castings far to often. However, the others wanted a peek. Ten-year-old Alison actually stopped at the sight. She was in front of me, and I could tell that she needed a rest anyways. She sat down, and I knew that once she had stopped, she wouldn't get back up. She was that tired.  
  
Then I felt a rush of energy. I could run faster that I had ever run in my life. Like I had just started and was at the peak of physical condition. I looked around me. The rest of the group was the same.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Meg:  
  
I saw Peter get rid of the guards. I turned to look at them, and shivered. They were all lying on the floor, gasping in pain and agony. I grimaced, and made a mental note not to anger Peter. Ever.  
  
I felt as if I couldn't run any longer. Then I saw Alison sit down. Oh, no! I thought. She was sure to get caught. Then I looked behind me. Sure enough. There was Jen, her head in her hands as she ran, no doubt trying to get rid of a headache. Her ability to lend and borrow energy came in handy sometimes, but it left her breathless.  
  
I led the group through one dark hallway after another. Then, there it was! The staircase. I dashed up the stairs, the group right behind me. The door at the top would lead outside. I twiddled the handle, imagining for the first time in a year the sun on my face. The cool breeze sweeping my hair back over my shoulders. Everything that I had longed for. Even to see a single blade of grass would please me. I glanced through the door as I tried to open it. Tried, but didn't succeed.  
  
"It's locked!" I cried. Then tears seeped down my cheeks. How could it be locked? Then a boy I had never met before that day, his name was Mike, I had just found out, pushed past me. "Move out of the way," He whispered. I backed down the stairwell. He stood in front of the door, and then just . just . melted!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ James:  
  
I led the girl, Opal, down the dark, dingy hallway, turning away from the rest of my group. I didn't mind leaving them. I didn't care if I never saw them again It's not that I don't have compassion, or that I hate them. We just weren't friends. I like to stay more on the side f things, not in the middle.  
  
I had slipped through the bars invisible to watch where they were taking the new people. I had watched them. The new ones were both unconscious. There were two. A girl and a boy. The girl was cute. I liked her right away.  
  
You might be wondering why I didn't just esape, If I could go through the bars. I can walk through all things, actually. At least, I used to be able to. I had only arrived a day or so before the new people, and up until then, I had had a guard at my cell door. Then, after the new people came, they had fed it to me in my dinner. I didn't know what it was. I still don't know. I think it was in the milk. They never give us milk. But to make it go through out the entire body, they would have had to get it into the calcium stream, if it wasn't a vitamin. I don't know how they did it, but now, I can't walk through the walls. I can still turn invisible, though. My one freedom.  
  
Opal and I arrived in that hallway that the new people were. She once again lit the tiny ball in her hand. She had extinguished it once we had started running. It was only the size of a marble, but gave off enough light for six sixty-watt light bulbs. It was very bright.  
"Maybe you should turn it down a bit?" I whispered. She nodded and dimmed the glow. We then crept into the darkness. I don't know why we crept, but we did. We glanced in every cell, but it took awhile to find them. They were in the last cell. Neither of us would have noticed us, unless one of them, the girl, had whispered, "Opal? Is that you?"  
  
St those words we both spun around. The cute girl was sitting beside the boy. She was sitting up straight. He was slouched, but beginning to stand.  
"Nike!" Opal said, clearly amazed, "Pyro! You . what are you doing here." I may not be empathic, but I could still sense the hostility in her voice. The cute one obviously did, too.  
"Now, Opal," she said, placing a fake smile on her lips, "I don't think that ." Opal cut her off.  
"Don't try that!" she sneered, "I'm wise to your tricks. I can avoid it. Block it, if I want. Stop it, if I try." The cute one gulped and grinned sheepishly. What were they talking about?  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Mike:  
  
I was running along with them. I don't know why I ran, when I could just stay there until the danger passed, but my instinct told me that they would need me.  
  
We had reached a stairwell; the girl that was leading ran up it. She reached for the door handle.  
"It's locked!" she wailed, and started crying. Whether it was fear or sadness, I don't know. I pushed to the front of the crowd.  
"Stand back," I told Meg. Then I worked my magic. The familiar feeling came over me. The one like a wave, a huge wave, was crashing over me. Then I was the wave. Be the wave, my friends had teased when I had told them what it felt like. That was before all this, though. Back when I had had friends.  
  
As a liquid, I slipped under the tiny crack in the door to the outside. Hen I looked around with my melted eyes. The coast was clear. I re- made myself and opened the door. There was Meg, looking like she was about to kiss me. And she did. It was just a quick peck on the cheek before she was running towards the near-by wood, but I loved it all the same. Then we were all running. I closed the door behind the last person, and dashed after them, soon catching up with Meg.  
"You're wonderful!" she laughed.  
"Don't mention it!" I replied. I gave her my lopsided grin, and we led the group together.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Nike:  
  
I was amazed to see Opal there. I didn't know how she could have gotten here. Then again Magneto hadn't told us what he had to have her for. But, even if she was here, how had she escaped?  
  
None-the-less, I was glad to see her. She didn't seem that glad to see me, though. She asked angrily what we were doing here. I tried to smile, and to persuade her to be nice, but she soon burst my bubble of confidence.  
  
Pyro had kept silent through this short exchange, but then he spoke.  
"Who're you?" he asked a kid that I hadn't noticed beside Opal.  
"James," he said, nodding at us, "I'm one of you, don' worry. I saw where they put you when they dropped you off about two days ago." Pyro interrupted him.  
"Tow days!" he cried, voicing my amazement, "That must have been some nock-out needle!" The kid looked at us oddly. Pyro shook his head. "Never mind," he said, "Listen, can you get us out of here, or not?"  
  
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A/N: Ok, guys. What do you think of this type of writing, with the various points of view, I mean? Let me know please!  
  
P.S.: Pleeeeeaaase review./ Even if you hated it and wished that I had never posted it, then tell me why. Constructive criticism rocks! 


	19. The Fight, and the Escape

Disclaimer: I am bored today, so I think that, for a change, I will write out the full disclaimer. Ok, here goes; I do not own X-Men, Pyro, any of the X-Men characters, or mutant powers. I do, however, own everything else.  
  
A/N: I'm going to be using the multiple points of view again, ok? If they confuse you, let me know :D  
  
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Opal  
  
I looked at Pyro and Nike. What were they doing there? I didn't trust them, and I probably never would. She tried to persuade me, but forgot what I can do. I didn't need to play this petty game anymore. I got straight to the point.  
  
"How did you get here?" I asked. Then, knowing that she would probably lie, I searched her brain for the information that I needed. I saw her and Pyro being led to the room that I had visited in its holographic form. I saw them choose certain files. I saw Nike find her own file. She cried, and they were dragged away. During this, I hadn't been listening to what Nike had to say.  
  
"Magneto sold you out, too." I told her.  
  
"What?!" she cried, "He didn't. It was my own stupidity that got us here."  
  
"How do you think," I asked, "that you got that far? Monsieur told you that all of his employees wears sunglasses, or contacts. How do you think that that one guard was not wearing eyewear? Coincidence? Fate? Are you still not convinced?" I was getting angry. I poured out all of my hatred for Magneto and those like him into my words. "On Monsieur's desk, there is a pile of forms. Did you not glance at the first one?" I held the image in my mind. "It is a letter from Magneto to that man. 'I will send two of my best to you, in return for three million dollars.' That is what it said! Face it! He sold us out! He will be the end of all mutants if he goes through with it!"   
  
The stress from the day was just to much. The guilt of murder followed the pain of being bought and sold like an animal. I couldn't handle that along with the pressure that I was feeling from having so many mutants around me. I lost it, completely. A strong, angry seizure took over me. I lay on the floor, my back arching unnaturally, and sobbed I do not cry very often, or ever, really. I couldn't take it any more. I wanted to die. Why was I here? I could feel the wind, the flame, and the ice. All of it surrounded me. I was trying to block out the world. Have life the way that it was before I found out about my curse.   
  
When it was over, I lay, and I sobbed. Without looking up, I reached out with a power, in my fury I did not even notice that it was magneto's power, and I bent the bars to their cage. They stepped free, and sent the door of the cell flying into the brick wall behind it, and I cried.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Meg  
  
Mike is amazing. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be racing through the forest. The two of us were in the lead. Someone had picked up Alison. She wasn't as strong as the rest of us were, as she was the only one under thirteen.   
  
A pine tree whipped my face, and I felt a trickle of blood run down my cheek. I wiped it away defiantly. Nothing was going to stop me.  
  
"Stop! Now!" The voice rang through the forest. I looked back. Six or seven guards were chasing after us. I kept running, as did the rest pf the group.   
  
"Can you fight?" I asked Mike. He nodded.  
  
"Of coarse I can fight!" he said.  
  
"Good. Take Peter, and Jen, too," I commanded, "Fight them off. I'm going to lead us to those hills over there. There are some caves. Meet us there when it's safe." He nodded, and he, Jen, and Peter fell behind. I kept running, praying that they would be ok. I'm not really religious, but praying somehow felt right in a case like this.   
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Jen  
  
I knew that something was wrong when I heard those voices behind me. Mike stopped Peter and me and together we stopped, in a line, facing the steadily growing number of guards. I looked at them. They all had guns. We were three teenagers. Peter was sick, and I didn't know how good of shape Mike was in. I was a girl. Maybe they would underestimate me. That always gave me the upper hand.  
  
I looked around. I could take all of their energy, but then I had to find a place yto put all of that extra energy. I thought of putting it into the three of us, but an overdose of energy could kill a person.  
  
The guards rushed at us, all of them. There were about sixteen. Mike rushed at him, and Peter stood his ground, but I saw three of them drop, screaming as if they were on fire. I turned my head away, but forced it back as the fighting began. I drained three of them of their energy, forcing it into the three of us, but mostly into me. I can take more energy than a normal person before I die. Mike could fight. Oh, man, could he fight. Every punch that was thrown in his direction was stopped, and replaced with a harder one on the guard's nose In a matter of minutes, four of the guards were out cold, and three others had their guns broken and useless. That left six more to be dealt with. Peter had run out of energy, I boosted him with a guard's energy. One of the guards that Peter had worked on was getting up. One more was regaining their energy. Mike was draining fast. I tried to keep a steady stream of energy flowing. Then I found that I had more energy than I could handle. I had an enormous amount from the unconscious guards. I forced as much as I could take into myself, but the guys were not losing energy that fast. I had to do something with that energy.   
  
I felt myself blacking out from the amount of energy that I contained, so I quickly found a life form and forced the energy into them. Every living animal that I could reach got a spray of energy. I squirrel leapt thirty feet to the nearest feet. A fly went crazy, going at least three hundred miles per hour. A troop of earthworms shot out of the ground and flew twelve feet into the air. There were no more animals in range, but I got rid of most of the energy. I forced the rest into a thorn bush near the battle, where Mike and Peter were still fighting furiously.  
  
The thorn bush grew at an alarming rate. I saw Mike liquefy to get out of the way, and Peter ran as fast as his newfound energy would let him. But the guards were waited down with guns and Kevlar. They were fire proofed, with oxygen tanks on some of them. They couldn't move fast enough. I watched in horror as a vine of thorns grew up so fast under a guard, that he didn't have time to move. It grew right through him, the three-inch long thorns sticking out his chest. More vines wrapped around the other men, trapping them in a painful cage that they could not escape. I couldn't believe what I had done. I had never given a plant energy, and I don't think that I ever will again. I stared, entranced, as crimson blood dripped from a dead man's lips, fear and pain in his hollow eyes. I couldn't look away until Mike, who had solidified himself, shook me, and dragged me away from the scene.   
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
James  
  
Opal was going to attract every guard in the place. First with the shouting, and now she seemed to be having a seizure. I had to snap her out of it, but how? Carefully, I peered through the wall of flame that seemed to be surrounding her. When it died, I stepped cautiously towards her cowering form. The cute one and the guy were behind me.  
  
"Opal?" I asked, nudging her. "Opal?" she sat up, rubbing her red eyes. Anger showed there. Anger and hate, and, most of all, suffering and fear. So much fear.  
  
"Call me Mimic," she said, "Come on, Lets show these bastards what we can do!" she stood up, and started a small flame in her hand. "Pyro," she said, "Take this flame. Don't' let it go out. Keep it. We're going to fight. What can you do, James?" The question came abruptly.  
  
"I- I can walk through walls, and go invisible, but they gave me something, and I can't go through stuff anymore." She closed her eyes. I felt a twitch in my min. It didn't hurt, but it felt odd, like someone sticking their finger into my brain. I didn't like it. I shivered.  
  
"That'll fix it," Opal, now Mimic, said.  
  
"I'm sorry if this doesn't work," I said, turning to the boy, Pyro. I wound up and threw a punch at him. Sure enough, it went right through his nose.  
  
"Don't' ever o that again," he said, crossing his eyes to look at his nose.  
  
"Come on," Mimic said, "We're going to go kick those mutant-haters' asses!" I grinned, Nike looked nervous, but Pyro was smiling cockily. Mimic, steel-faced and proud, led us down the hallway to beat the guards.  
  
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Mike  
  
Meg told me to go, and I went, taking Jen and Peter with me. I had taken karate as a kid, but that wasn't the only training that I had had. Bullies were always picking on me because of my height. My dad taught me how to fight, and I learned to box when I was twelve. After that, I never had another problem with bullies again.   
  
We hit the wall of guards hard. Maybe in my school gym, or in the karate school I was trained and disciplined when I fought. But here, when it was life or death, I just danced.  
  
Peter took out three, and Jen took another three. Neither of them could fight very well. That was all up to me. I guess Meg picked them because of their powers. The three of us worked beautifully together, with Jen taking power from the guards, feeding it to Peter and me, with the two of us fighting.   
  
I turned for a moment, to look at Jen. Fear and desperation played on her face. Between kicks and punches, I glanced at her to see what was wrong. She looked like she was going to faint. I could see the idea spreading on her face before it happened. I didn't know what it was.   
  
Then a squirrel, which looked like it was on crack, launched itself high above my head, landing in another tree on the other side of the clearing, about thirty feet away. A fly flew into my forehead so fast that it squashed itself there, and earthworms propelled themselves out of the ground with force and energy that I have never known other earthworms to portray.  
  
That wasn't what she stopped at. A thorn bush exploded beside the guard I was fighting. On an impulse, I liquefied as the bush grew up right where I had been. I don't know if Jen had been trying to do that or not. Oh, God, I hope not.   
  
I slithered, I guess, over to Jen and solidified myself. She was staring at the bloodied corpse of one of the guards. She rocked slightly where she sat, not taking her eyes off the scene. I tried calling her name, but she just sat there and stared. She was in shock. I shook her, and dragged her away from the scene in hopes of lifting her from her trance. She still didn't respond, so I put her on my back, and Peter and I started off in the direction that the others had gone.  
  
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A/N: ok, that's all for now, folks! Please review and tell me what you think so far! 


	20. Running

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, ok?  
  
A/N: I'll be using the multiple viewpoints again, so if you can't follow, let me know, ok?  
  
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Nike  
  
Opal had said that we needed to fight. I agreed, but was still nervous. I didn't know how to fight, and if all of the guards eyes were shielded, then how could I use my gift? But Pyro wanted to go. That kid, James I think, looked ready and determined. And Opal herself? Her face was flushed and her eyes shone. She could take on anything, I was sure.   
  
Mimic. That's what she wanted us to call her. She looked angry, but I knew that she was scared. I don't know how I knew, but somewhere in those hollow black eyes, fear was hiding. But she wouldn't show it. She would never show it.  
  
The four of us walked down the hallway, towards the guards that by now were after us. Pyro shot out with a ball of fire. It didn't affect them; they were fireproofed. Still he shot at them, and the kid turned himself invisible. I glanced around, wondering where he had gone, and then a guard fell heavily, looking around. That's where he was. The guard peered around him, and as he was getting up, he fell again. He shot up once more, spinning in place; his fists ready to fight his shapeless opponent. Pyro was watching this, as if waiting for an opening. James grabbed the helmet from the man's head.   
  
"Now!" the shout seemed to come from the air. The man erupted in flame, as a river of fire flew right at his head. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and I looked away.  
  
Then I realized the Opal was gone. She had seemed to disappear. The other two guards, however, were both lying on the ground, eyes open, blood dripping from their open mouths. I covered my mouth in shock.   
  
Then she appeared from mid air. There was blood seeping in a small trail from her mouth, just as it was from the guards. She was kneeling, as if in pain, but stood shaking slightly, and drew a heavy breath.  
  
"They're gone," she said, "Lets move." We ran down the hall and up the stairs, where we met a sea of office workers.  
  
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Peter  
  
After the fight, the three of us headed in the direction that the others had gone. I hoped that we would find them. How long had the fight taken? Not to long, I hoped. Jen appeared to be in shock. She was shivering, despite the fact that it was fairly warm. Her eyes were wide, staring off into space. Mike was carrying her I offered to take her, but he just shook his head.  
  
We walked through the forest, and over the hills. It was slow going, and we stopped often. Jen seemed to be eating up our energy without even realizing it. We needed to wake her up, but how?  
  
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Jen  
  
My thoughts were not clear. I didn't know what was happening to me. I couldn't concentrate. I could only think of that man. The thorns. The blood. What had I done? I had a vague feeling that I was giving myself to much energy. How was I getting it? I couldn't stop it. Mike was carrying me. I didn't know where we were going. But it was cold, so cold.  
  
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A/N: I know that it's short, sorry. I don't have much time today, but I'll write more soon! :D Please review, ok? Constructive criticism is always welcome! 


	21. Back on the Bench

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is worth mentioning, k?  
  
A/N: Yes, it's me! I am back. Hi there, all of you who missed me sooo much (I'm sure). Well, anywhosies (best word ever), do you remember those kids on the bench by the ice-cream parlor? Ya, they're back. This chapter might get really confusing, so if you can't follow, or have any questions, just let me know in your review (HINT HINT!) then I'll get back to you, k? Anyways, here we go...  
  
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Lisa  
  
The strangest thing happened to me. We were all sitting on the bench, like always, and then Alex, who is usually fairly logical, said, "My hair is pink." Now this was a stupid thing to say, because it had nothing to do about our conversation (which had been about some of our favorite actors) but it also was not true, as Alex's hair is blonde.  
  
Then we realized something even stranger; somebody was tapping into both her and my brains, and stealing information. Sounds weird, huh? Well, not so weird as you think. Not quite so weird because my friends and I live in a world that has many members of another, more powerful race of human beings living hidden, for fear of death or imprisonment. Not quite so weird if you knew that my friends and me were part of this hidden race.   
  
One of my friends, Jenny, tapped the kid's mind that was invading ours, and traced her back to somewhere in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains. Which was amazing, since we were in the middle of New York City. Then we found out that she wasn't some random crazy person trying to steal random information from people's minds, but that she was actually trying to help herself escape from some top-secret mutant holding facility of some sort, and that all she really wanted was to know how to use my gift, which was anti-deception.   
  
Natasha, who was held in similar place until she had escaped about two years before, was instantly sympathetic, and begged Jenny to trace the mutant, and find her. The four of us were soon all caught up in the mental chase of this strange, powerful mutant, since Jenny had tied us together with some strange mental bond that none of us really understood. It took Jenny about ten minutes to find the girl, and then tracking her took all of our combined energy. We were all exhausted, but what we found scared us badly enough to keep tracing her. She had killed at least two people already. She had injured even more badly. She had searched out a mutant that would help her escape from a room full of holographics.   
  
We watched, amazed, through this girl's eyes, as she made her way down to a dark, damp basement, and one at a time release many more mutants, none that were more than about eighteen, from their cruel prison. We were surprised at her courage, and slightly afraid of her determination as she sent most of the group on ahead and risked her life for two people who turned out to be her enemies.   
  
We watched her fight, growing more and more exhausted, until Tasha broke the mental bond that we had grown.  
  
"I can't take it any more!" she cried. We came out of our trance and stared openly at our friend.   
  
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Nike  
  
We faced the oncoming sea of office workers on shaking, tired legs. Pyro still wasn't letting his candle-like flame go out. I knew that no matter what we did, it just wouldn't be enough. Opal was about to do something drastic, but I had a better idea.  
  
"Wait," I said, holding out my hand. She stopped.   
  
"Yes?" she asked.  
  
"They are all just wearing glasses, or contacts. Can you take those away?" She nodded, reaching out her hand for a telekinetic attack on the onslaught. For a moment, I was amazed that I didn't have to tell her the rest of my plan. Then I remembered that to her my mind was an open book. The others two weren't so easily convinced.  
  
"What are you doing?" Pyro asked, "I say we fry 'em." I shook my head as his little fireball grew.  
  
"We are going to make them join us," I said. That's when the bullet came.  
  
It came out of nowhere, and I didn't know what was happening. It was going straight for my chest. In a flash, Pyro was there, leaping in front of me. Time seemed to slow down. I saw him jump, and then fall hard on his shoulder. A sickening crunch echoed throughout the dull, gray hallway. I looked down at him, instantly seeing his pain. James was kneeling at his side in an instant, with his shirt off and over the crimson wound on Pyro's heart. This all really took only a matter of seconds, but it seemed like days.   
  
I didn't have much time top think, because just then, Opal shot one hand in front of her. Countless pairs of glasses, sunglasses, and contacts flew off many pairs of eyes.  
  
"Who did this?" I commanded, pointing at Pyro, who lay bleeding to death on the ground. "I think you should tell me." One man stepped forward, holding a gun.  
  
"It was me." The other people moved forward.   
  
"Stop moving," I commanded them. They stopped. I turned to the man who shot Pyro. "Die." I said. I didn't really mean it; it just shot out of my mouth. He dropped dead, please excuse the pun.  
  
"All of you," I said, glaring around the crowd, quickly counting numbers. Only thirty. Not as many as I had hopped. "Join with us to rebel against your boss." They all nodded. "Mutants are not bad," I said, just for added effect, "They do not wish to hurt you." They all nodded, to show they understood. "Wait here," I said. Then I kneeled by Pyro's side. I couldn't help it. Tears seeped to my eyes, spilling down on his crimson-coated shirt.  
  
"Pyro?" I said, choking on my own voice, and it came out as a strangled squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Pyro? Can you hear me?" He opened his eyes and smiled weakly.  
  
"I'm good," he said, "Don't worry." I kept crying, knowing that he was going to die. The bullet was right in his heart. "Nike," he murmured, "I- I. A-Are you alright?" His breath was shallow. I placed two fingers on his neck, looking for a pulse. I found it, and it was dying slowly.  
  
"I'm fine," I said, "But, I- I love you." I don't know what made me say those words, they just spilled out. What scared me most was that I knew they were true. He smiled again.  
  
"I-I-" the pulse grew weaker under my fingers. His breathing stopped, and the determined beat of his heart ceased, never again to start. I buried my face in his bloody shirt and wept, oblivious to all that was going on around me.  
  
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Mike  
  
Peter offered to carry Jen for a while, and I reluctantly gave in. Jen was in shock, majorly. She probably couldn't move even if she had wanted to. It's a god thing that she as light, or we would probably be stuck there to be killed by the next wave of guards.  
  
The three of us were moving as fast as possible, which wasn't very fast, considering we had to stop every five minutes or so to regain our energy. She was sucking it from us. Soon, she would die from the overdose, I was sure.  
  
We had been moving through the forest for about half an hour, and most of it was spent resting. There was no sign of the caves that we were supposed to be meeting the group at, and I figured that we were hopelessly lost.  
  
"Jen?" I whispered, as Peter set her down by an apple tree that was dry, and brown. The snow hadn't come yet, which was odd, so close to Canada, and in mid-December. "Jen?" I asked again. Peter was kneeling beside me. "We have to wake her up," I said. He nodded.  
  
"But how?" he asked.  
  
"I dunno," I replied, staring at her. Her eyes were closed now, and she looked near death. "I don't know how to treat for shock," I said, "I'm not a doctor."  
  
"That's it!" Peter cried, "We need to find a doctor!"  
  
"In the middle of nowhere?" I asked him. He looked slightly defeated, and slouched back against the dead tree.  
  
"So, how do we wake her?" He asked me, staring up into the sky which ws now turning darker. It would be night soon.  
  
"First, we have to find everyone else," I said. We got up, and made our way towards what we hoped would be the rest pf the group.  
  
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Meg  
  
Mike and Peter and Jen were still fighting. I looked through the trees, and saw, far in the distance, their small forms battling the guards. Then I kept running with the rest of the group. It would take another half hour to get to the caves. I just hoped that we were all up to it.  
  
We kept running, and then we gradually slowed to a walk. Panting hard, we continued our journey to what we hoped was freedom. Then the caves were ahead of us. The sky was turning red, an omen for blood and suffering. That's what my Grandmother used to say. "If there is blood in the night sky, then blood is shed by one you hold close." I prayed that that someone was not Mike. He had saved so many of our lives that he couldn't just die now.  
  
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Peter  
  
We trudged wearily onwards, trying desperately to stop Jen from sub-consciously taking our energy. I wasn't working. She just wouldn't wake up. I hoped that someone would be able to help her once we got to the caves. The coves! How were we supposed to find them? We had been walking in circles for what seemed like hours. It was night, and the stars were shining brightly overhead.  
  
"Peter?" I heard someone calling my name far off, "Mike? Jen?" Mike and Jen had fallen asleep. I was keeping watch for a while.  
  
"Over here!" I called, standing up, and almost falling out of the apple tree, which was where I was sitting. "I'm here!"  
  
Meg was coming through the woods. I knew that it was her just from the sound of her voice. She came into the clearing, and I leapt from my perch to greet her.  
  
"We thought you were done for," She said, wrapping me in a tight hug. I returned the gesture gratefully.  
  
"So did we," I admitted. "Jen is in shock. She doesn't know what's happening, and is stealing our energy without knowing it. Meg tutted in her motherly way, gently waking Mike.  
  
"Jen?" she whispered to the sleeping, curled up form that used to be a tower of bravery. "Can you hear me? It's all right, Jen. You can tell me what it wrong. It's ok." She sat down beside her, and wrapped an arm around her to stop her from shivering. Jen's eyes snapped open; they looked pale, and they glowed slightly in the darkness.  
  
"I killed him, Meg," She said, rocking back and forth. Mike and I sighed happily. We thought that she would die. "I killed him. I was getting too much. Too much. I gave it to a thistle. Then it grew. Oh, it grew fast." She wasn't rocking now. Her head was in her hands, and she was moaning in between sobs.  
  
"It's all right. You didn't kill him on purpose. It's ok, Jen. Come on." Mike and I stared as Meg miraculously cured Jen of her shock. Jen stood on shaking legs. I felt a rush of energy, and I realized that Gen was trying to give back what she had taken throughout the day.  
  
"That is yours," She said. Meg steered her over to me, and she clamped a hand sturdily around mine, our fingers interlocking.  
  
"She knows you best," Meg said. Jen sighed happily. She was now like a small child, just needed to be reassured. The four of us made our to the caves, and Jen held my hand the whole way.  
  
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A/N: Yes, I am setting up some pairings. Can you tell? Let me know what you think of this chapter. REVEIW REVIEW REVIEW! 


	22. Pyro and Opal

Disclaimer: If I owned X-Men, then I wouldn't be writing an X-MEN fan fiction, now would I?  
  
A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but my computer broke :(  
  
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Tasha  
  
I just couldn't watch that girl die. She was saving so many of our kind, but she was going to sacrifice her life to do it. I watched her fight, not with fists but with her powers. They were amazing, but she was tiring.  
  
"I can't take it any more!" I cried as I watched one of her small group get shot. They would never make it to safety. More guards, more than fifty, were after the group hiding in the forest. "She's gonna die, and the people she freed are gonna die, too. We have to stop them!"  
  
"But what are we going to do about it?" Alex asked me, "It's not like we are anywhere near there."  
  
"But we could be," I replied quietly.  
  
"Oh no, Tasha," Jenny said, sensing my plan, "That will never work. You fetch things, not transport people."  
  
"Well, we've got to try," I responded.  
  
"Why?" Alex demanded. She was always the cynical one, Alex.  
  
"Because I know what it's like to be caged up like an animal," I replied, my voice the barest whisper, "I know what it's like to be hated for something that I cannot control. I know what it's like to be looked down upon as something that is less than human because of something that, if I were given a choice, I would not wish to have it. And I know that, even if we cannot help her, if she is destined to die, then we can help the people that she is willing to die for." The group was silent.  
  
"You really believe in destiny, then?" Lisa asked. I nodded. "Then I'm with you." She smiled weekly, and I knew that she was absolutely terrified. Alex, never wanting to be the one to back down, also nodded.  
  
"I'm in," she chimed.  
  
"Me to," Jenny's voice shook as she spoke. I nodded.  
  
"Alright," I said "I've never ported a living object, so I'll go first, and if I make it, then I'll come back for you guys. If I don't come back, then, well- "  
  
"Oh, don't say if," Lisa begged, "You'll get there!" I nodded, shivering.  
  
"Jenny," I said, "You have to guide me." I felt a thin strand of what seemed oddly like what I would assume to be thought enter my mind. It felt strongly like Jenny. I closed my eyes, and where I wanted to go showed clearly in my mind. I took a deep breath, praying to every god in every religion that I knew of. I held my breath, and felt a strange whooshing of air, and I knew that I was leaving the small ice-cream parlor in New York City.  
  
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Peter  
  
I held Jen's hand as we walked towards the caves, led by a weary Meg. Guilt shook Jens's shoulders as she cried, and I felt what she did. Pain, horror, and fear. I was afraid, and I knew that the others also were.  
  
We arrived at the opening of the cave, and I peered in cautiously. One of the others had started a small fire, and was tending it carefully. Most of them were asleep, curled against the rough stone walls of the cave. It was not that deep, and had a low ceiling. Already it was beginning to fill up with smoke. I took Jen over to the fire and sat her down there. She leaned her head into my shoulder, and cried. I leaned against the wall at my back, and prayed that that would be the last trial of the day. But my wish would go ungranted.  
  
"More guards!" Meg cried, peering through (quite literally) the trees. "There are nearly fifty of them! Oh, god! Why can't they just let us be?" She roused the rest of the group. Looked like it was time for another fight.  
  
"We need you, Jen," I whispered to my sobbing companion.  
  
"I can't fight again," she said, "I can't cause any more pain. None at all."  
  
"We need you to help give us energy," I said, "You don't have to fight. Mike and I, we'll fight." She nodded. I stood, lending my arm for support to the still shaking Jen. Meg came with me, and Mike. We were all tired. There were a few others that came. We decided to leave Alison, since she was so young. Two others who had no clue how to fight, and mutations that wouldn't help much on the scene of battle stayed behind as well. I thought that it would be pointless, since we were destined to lose, but that was just my pessimistic side showing through.  
  
The eight of us walked towards the onslaught of guards. We climbed up into trees farther away from the cave, in hopes of starting an ambush. I knew that we would never make it. The frightened, uneasy breathing of my companions told me that they thought the same.  
  
A strange whooshing sound filled my ears, and a small form was instantly crouching beside me on a branch. The figure apeared with a noise like a gunshot. Some one in the tree next to mine screamed. I looked at the figure. It appeared to be a girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen.  
  
"I made it," she breathed, "I'm alive." She started to laugh. Dispite the fact that I had no idea who she was, I turned to her and said, "If you don't shut up, you wont be alive much longer." I don't think she heard the end of it, though, because by that time she had dissappeared.  
  
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Nike  
  
I leaned down by Pyro's bloody form. His pulse died beneath my fingers.  
  
"No!" I cried out, losing control of my own voice. "Stop! Live! Don't die, Pyro!" But it was to late. He was already gone. Those perfect eyes stared up vacantly at me. I grabbed his hand and placed my head on his chest, his blood staining my hair bright red.  
  
"Stop," Opal said, "Wait a minute." She also knelt beside him. She looked horrible. Her black hair hung limply about her shoulders, making her look ghostly. I noticed her eyes for the first time. They were deep black, like the night sky, but without stars to brighten them. They peered dully out at me from her nervouse looking face. She looked tired. Her breath came in rgged gasps. "I'm not going to make it through this," she told me, and I knew it to be true. She coughed, a rasping, deperate sound. "I can help him, but you have to move away." I stared at her form, growing blurry through my tear-stained eyes. I stood and pressed myself against a wall, tears now streaming from my face.  
  
"Opal," I said, my voice thick with fear and sadness, "What are you doing?" She only shook her head, and placed a hand over his heart, over the wound. James backed away, to, coming to tand beside me.  
  
She drew a shaking breath, closed her eyes, and everything seemed to be silent. No one moved. No one said a word. No one even breathed. She knelt beside him, her face furrowed in consentration, and her hand over his seeping wound. Then, all of a sudden, she collapsed on top of him. I moved towards them, James right behind me. We rolled Opal onto her back, and checked her pulse. There was nothing. For one, horribble, suspended moment, I thought that we had lost them both.  
  
Then Pyro gasped, his face contorted in pain. He grasped his chest, and I watched in amazement as the wound began to heal, sealing the bullet under his skin. He gasped a few times, but then the pain seemed to subside, and the only trace of the wound was his bloody shirt.   
  
"Pyro?" I asked quietly, "Are you alright?"   
  
"I'm fine," he said, sitting up, "But, it was so weird. I was...... dead!"  
  
"You were," I agreed, hugging him.  
  
"What happed?" He asked me.  
  
"Well," James put in, "Opal said that she wouldn't make it through this, and said that she could help you.We all moved away, and she did something, I don't know what." A misted look came over Pyro's eyes.  
  
"She healed me," he said, "She healed me, but it took her life. Look, I can see parts of what she was thinking when she did it. I know what she wants us to do. Oh, this is a good plan." He seemed overwhelemed by glee. "And, she gave me a gift." He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember something, "I felt her voice calling me back, but at first I didn't want to go. The she said she'd give me a gift. What is it? Hmmm-" he thought for a moment before his eyes snapped open. "That's it!" he cried and opened his palm. A small candle-like flame glimmered there. "I can start them, now!" He seemed incredibaly glad.  
  
"Alright," James said, "But what do we do about Opal? She's dead now." We all looked at the body lying on the ground next to Pyro. She looked paler than usual, and her black hair fell accross her face. A small smile played on her lips, as if all was going just as she expected, and she knew it.  
  
"You there," Pyro singled out a strong looking man from the crowd, "You carry her, and follow me, all of you."  
  
"Why should we take orders from you?" the man asked. Seeing trouble, I stepped in.  
  
"Do whatever he or James says," I commanded. He immediately picked up Opal's limp form, and the group of us followed Pyro, who held his little flame in front of him like a torch, up the stairs to the upper levels.  
  
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A/N: That's all for now, folks! There should be more coming soon! PLEASE read and reveiw! Bye now. 


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